


Fix Me

by HawkizeFanfiction



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Romance, Rope Bondage, Sex, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-03-08 21:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 45,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13466886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawkizeFanfiction/pseuds/HawkizeFanfiction
Summary: Five years ago, Zim disappeared, leaving not a trace or a memory of his time on Earth. Dib, destroyed by the loss of what he began to call his only friend, enters adulthood broken--struggling with addiction and a broken home life on top of stressful college studies, when suddenly, Zim returns.





	1. Beginnings

Dib woke up like he did every morning—exhausted. He groaned and rolled over to stare at his alarm clock, its red flashing numbers blinding him in the dark of his bedroom, curtains blacking out any semblance of light. Reaching out, he tapped the top of the clock to hit the snooze button, rolling over to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling through the darkness.

He was 22. He was still living with his dad and Gaz, but he was in college now. Money wasn't a problem, what with his dad being  _Professor Membrane_  and all, so he decided to stay living at home until he was done his degree: a double major in biochemistry and physics, as suggested by—you guessed it—his father. He rolled his eyes and sat up, flicking on the lamp and putting on his glasses. His once circular frames were exchanged for thick square ones.

His walls were bare, now, but still deep blue. His desk and PC sat in the corner, where it's always been. At night, the only lights came from the flickering of his computer lights. The floor was mostly clean, save for some dirty clothes in piles near his closet: clean and dirty. He stood up and went to said closet to find something to wear, tugging into his clothes. He wore mostly the same outfits he did when he was younger, but more plain, trench coat also exchanged for a leather jacket. A darker take on his childish paranormal-investigator wardrobe. His scythe had grown out, and an array of piercings littered his ears, plus one in his tongue. He also had a plethora of tattoos. He’d begun to get them at 18, an adult in society’s eyes, albeit not his father He kept the tattoos hidden when his dad was around, which wasn’t often anymore. The scientist buried himself in his work, practically lived at the lab. Dib glanced at himself in the mirror—he looked worn down, thin.

Once that was done, he grabbed his bookbag, keys, phone, and wallet, and headed out of his room. After a quick brush of his teeth and a wash of his face, he made his way downstairs.

Gaz was sitting at the kitchen table, his dad once again nowhere to be found. His sister barely acknowledged his presence, giving only a grunt, sipping a cup of juice and playing her Game Slave. Gaz was finished high skool now as well, and worked at the videogame store in the mall. She didn’t have any plans of going to school, but Dib knew she could do well if she wanted to. Dib just shook his head, grabbing a couple granola bars from the cupboard and an apple from the fridge, and heading out.

"Seeya, Gaz."

"Humph."

Dib locked the door behind himself and got in his car—a deep blue two-door sedan. Nothing too expensive or flashy, but his dad decided he needed one to get to and from college, and he wasn't going to complain about it. It had actually been one of the few pleasant surprises he got from his father, on his 18th birthday. It gave him some freedom, even though Dad wasn’t around anyway and he often had to drive Gaz around when she couldn’t be assed to take the bus. He started "her" engine, backed up out of the driveway, and took a left toward campus.

And just like every morning, he passed Zim's house. He slowed down to a snail's pace (not like there was any other traffic, anyway), just to see if anything had changed. It hadn't.

Zim had been gone for about five years now. One day, near the end of high school—they had just a semester before graduation, he just disappeared. Took everything with him, save for the empty shell of his base. The gnomes and walls had become overgrown. He didn't bother locking the door, so for weeks after Zim had left, Dib let himself inside and explored. All of the computers had been shut down, and any Irken-related memorabilia was gone. It drove him crazy for a while—even granted him a stay in the Crazy House for Boys for a few months. Nobody else remembered him. Therapists and counselors and psychiatrists aplenty have told him that Zim was nothing more than a figment of his imagination. Eventually, he just gave up. True or not, he had no more energy to fight. He decided to feign ignorance over all the paranormal, just so he could get out of that place and continue on what could loosely be called his life. He barely made it back in time to finish his high school exams. He would have failed his senior year had he not aced all of the tests.

Releasing a gentle sigh, Dib sped up again and continued on his way to class. Today he had quantum mechanics and vertebrate physiology, then a lunch break, and finally advanced inorganic chemistry. His labs were tomorrow.

Once he arrived on campus and found a place to park, always in the back of the parking lot where there was tons of room (and furthest away from the school), he got out of the car with his bag, leaned against the door, and pulled out his phone and a cigarette. Once lit, he dialed a number and waited.

"Tea? Hey. Is Keo with you? Yeah, I just got here. You guys on campus yet? Cool, I'll meet you guys outside the sci building."

Dib hung up the phone, slipping it into his pocket and taking a drag from his cigarette. He started smoking after he had been released from the madhouse. Snorting, he began the trek to campus, though he never particularly minded the walk.

He had met Tea and Keo during his first year. They didn't have any classes together—they were all in different programs—but when they met in the cafeteria on the first day of classes, they hit it off. Well, more like they burst into his bubble and forced their way into his life. A smile tugged at the corner of his lip. He was thankful for the two of them. He probably wouldn't be around if it weren't for getting far enough out of The City to make real friends. People that weren't crazy.

Well.

They  _were_  crazy. But they were the kind of crazy Dib came to love, and trust. With everything. He even told them about Zim. And, oddly enough, they believed him.

"Dib!" A cheerful, high-pitched voice squeaked and bounded around the corner, a wide grin spread across his face, followed by another young man.

"Hey, Tea," Dib laughed, glancing at Tea up and down.

He was an odd one. Today he was wearing a pair of deep-blue ripped jeans, a pair of baby-blue skate shoes, a white tank top, and an indigo leather coat. His hair was surprisingly long, blond, and shaggy, tied up in an awkward-looking bun, and he had on lots of golden bracelets. He blinked at Dib cheerfully.

Behind Tea was Keo, who grinned upon seeing Dib. "Heya, Dibbie!" Keo was only a few inches taller than Tea, wearing a comfortable pear of grey sneakers, plain blue jeans, a black t-shirt under a white hoodie, and a thin grey coat. He was also slightly less pale, with deep hazel eyes.

"Guys, hey!" Dib replied in as cheerful a manner as he could muster, taking another drag from his cigarette before putting it out on the ground under the toe of his boot.

"So Dib, there's a show tomorrow, wanted to know if you'd like to come with us?" Tea asked, bouncing up and down off his toes and flat feet, a huge grin on his face.

"Yeah. It's supposed to be really good!" Keo said, stretching tall. "Weeee….already bought tickets for the three of us!" he exclaimed, pulling the tickets out from nowhere and passing them to Dib, who laughed.

"Sure guys," he said, taking his ticket and placing it in his wallet before continuing, "Sounds like it'll be fun. You're lucky I have a late class on Friday!" Of course, that didn't actually matter. He probably would have gone anyway, or they would drag him along with no say in the matter.

"Yay~!" Tea squealed, bouncing up and pulling Dib into a hug, his face smushing into the boy's blond bun.

"Yeah, yeah, get offa' me," Dib mumbled, brushing Tea off but grinning slightly. "Alright guys, I've got to go to class. I'll see you at lunch, okay?" He said, adjusting his backpack and waving to his friends.

"Later!" Keo called after him, waving enthusiastically while Tea continued to squeal.

Just another day. Dib rolled his eyes with a smile, heading into the building to go to class.


	2. The Return

"For the love of—GIR!" A voice shouted loudly as their ship plummeted toward Earth.

"I like waffles~!" an electronic voice cooed as he bounced around the ship, crashing into panels with a large bang.

Zim growled, steadying himself and glancing back at the two Irkens behind him. "Zek, Nui…Zim recommends you prepare for crash-landing," he growled, strapping himself into his seat and attempting to steady the ship, but it was all in vain.

Zek and Nui didn't reply, knowing their Tallest's comment was mostly sarcastic. They glanced at each other anxiously, but otherwise helped in attempting to steady the ship before they did too much damage, to both their ship and their landing site.

Which, of course, was Zim's old back yard, tucked between two tall apartment buildings at the centre of a cul-de-sac on Earth. A wide grin cracked Zim’s face as he stared at the purple and green beacon of light quickly growing closer to them.

The Irkens managed to steady the ship just enough not to go tumbling into nearby buildings or Zim's base, although they did create a sufficient crater in the yard and damaged their ship. While, at the same time, being thrown all about the control-room.

"Uuugh…" Zim groaned, picking himself up off the floor, which was actually the wall, standing up and glancing behind himself. "Are Zek and Nui alright?" He asked, rubbing the back of his head.

"I'm alright," Zek muttered, pulling himself up as well. Nui just nodded, shaking the dizziness out of his head and glancing at GIR, who sat up abruptly and began squealing cheerfully.

"GIR!" Zim shouted, and the robot's eyes went red.

"YES, MY MASTER."

"Cut it out," Zim said simply, before turning his attention to his comrades. "Now, we will begin our mission of Impending Doom 3 tomorrow. For now, we must reconnect the computer systems."

"Why did you disconnect them if you knew you were coming back?" Nui asked, standing to his full height, a couple inches shorter than Zim. He was an incredibly strange Irken, considering the fact that his skin was white and his eyes a bright orange-amber. His antenna had a slight wave to them, but was wearing the classic Invader uniform, the same as Zim wore during his first stint on Earth. Zim, however, was wearing an outfit, while quite similar to his old uniform, was not the same.

"SILENCE!" Zim shouted exaggeratedly, before he turned and pushed the door above him open, reaching up and climbing out before he continued, "Zim could not risk being any information getting out upon my disappearance. I also could not allow any huumans to learn any of our technology or language."

"That makes sense I guess," Zek muttered as he hauled himself out as well, coming to an even middle-ground between the height of Zim and Nui. His eyes were a glistening purple, not as uncommon as Nui's amber, also wearing the Invader uniform. His antennae were long and straight, and rather than the red circles on his Pak, his were purple. He also had a silver chain around his neck, hanging with the Irken emblem.

Nui brushed himself off as he followed the other two into the back entrance of Zim's base. This door brought them into the elevator, which promptly dropped them down into the lab. Zim stepped out and took a look around, feeling slightly nostalgic. He didn't, however, let the others see this, and simply walked into the room to begin reconnecting the computer system and his lab equipment.

Zek and Nui knew immediately what to do, and set about helping Zim to make sure everything was in working order. Including the decrepit laser-eyed gnomes in the front yard.

It took them quite a few hours to get everything finished. It was almost dawn. Zim groaned and stood up, stretching out his legs, hands on his hips, stretching tall until he cracked his back.

"Computer! Bring up the camera on the front lawn," Zim ordered, Zek and Nui standing nearby to watch as the screens burst into life, and the largest in the centre showed a perfectly clear picture of the front, excluding a section of vine that was limiting the view. "Hm. That may be an issue. No matter! Zek, go out and make sure the voot cruiser is fixed and hidden. Nui, go clean the vines off the gnomes and cameras."

"Yes Zim!" They said in unison, eyeing each other awkwardly. They turned to leave immediately before Zim coughed.

"And, thank you. Zim appreciates the help," Zim muttered, slightly uncomfortable. It wasn't very often that he thanked people, but since his disaster with Impending Doom 2, Zek and Nui, and a very limited few others, were always at his side willing to help.

Especially when he learned of his fake "mission".

"Any time, Zim," Zek said and Nui nodded silently, bringing Zim out of his trance. The two disappeared into the elevator, and Zim listened to them as they went, able to hear them until they were above ground-level.

Zim slinked down into his computer chair, running his fingertips gently over the familiar keys. He looked back up at the screen. The sun was coming up, so Zek and Nui better make it fast and come back inside to be fitted with disguises. Nui would not be so difficult, for he could be played off as an albino, but just like with himself, Zek would be more difficult to disguise. Luckily, his disguise machine could be easily upgraded, and anyway, humans were atrociously _stoopid_.

He, however, would return to a very familiar look. One he remembered Dib becoming very fond of…

"eeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEE~" a squeal, first quiet to suddenly audible, made its way down the elevator and into the lab. Gir popped out, bouncing a few times on his head before he ran over to Zim. "Master! Can I watch the Angry Monkey Show?" He asked excitedly.

Zim rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, GIR can watch the horrible teevee," he grumbled, pulling a remote out of one of the drawers and passing it to the SIR unit. "Now, leave the Almighty ZIM!" he snapped, and GIR cheerfully took the remote and bounded upstairs to watch TV.

Zim leaned back and watched the screen. Nui had removed the vines while Zim was distracted with Gir, and piled them up in the corner of the yard. He nodded once to the camera, then returned inside. Grinning, Zim ordered, "Switch to Camera Two!" The computer brought up the camera in the back yard. Zek had managed to get back inside the voot cruiser and maneuver it into the corner of the yard, near the fence and the next-door building. Zek turned on the cloaking mechanism in the voot cruiser, and it immediately disappeared. Once finished, Zek returned inside as well. All that was left was a hole in the dirt.

Zim pressed a button on the panel—one that would activate the speaker system throughout the house, and spoke, "Zek and Nui, Zim appreciates the help. Zim will be in the lab if you need him. Otherwise, Zim has some important matters to attend to." He released the speaker button. If he spoke loudly enough, he was sure the other Irkens could hear him fine. However, considering the amount of yelling he had been doing lately, he didn't quite feel like it.

Instead, he tilted his chair back, kicked his feet up onto the panel, and watched the screen. "Computer, camera one," he ordered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short one, the first few chapters are--they do get a bit longer later on.


	3. Memories

It was Thursday. Dib glanced at his alarm clock through the darkness, just like every morning. He'd already hit snooze, and the red numbers stopped flashing at him. 6:01 AM. Heaving a sigh, he sat up and took a quick glance about his room—a habit he still couldn't shake. Just to make sure everything was the same. Nodding to himself, he tossed off the blankets, got dressed, and went downstairs.

Gaz was awake again, playing her game slave still. And just the same, their dad was at work.

"Why are you even up this early?" Dib asked, rummaging through the cupboards for something to eat. His labs were a bit later, so he could take time to have a bowl of cereal.

"I work at seven," Gaz replied simply. She didn't have any desire to drive to work at the videogame store, otherwise he was sure their dad would have gotten her a car as well. She usually walked, or took the bus. Dib shrugged at her answer, sitting down across the table with his bowl of cereal and munching away, pulling out his phone.

Tea had messaged him.

dib! u pumped or what?! -1:58 AM

Dib replied,

Sure am. Meet me after my lab at my car, tell Keo. We'll head over right away. -6:12 AM

With a few seconds, his phone released a small chirp to signify a received text message.

yay! ok. ill let keo know. -6:13 AM

For some reason, it always bothered Dib the way Tea texted, what with the no capitals and haphazard punctuation, but nothing he could say would have changed Tea's ways—it was just part of who he was. Instead he simply put away his phone, ate his cereal quickly, and put the bowl in the sink.

"I won't be home until late tonight, tell Dad I'm going out, okay?" Dib called to his sister as he yanked his boots on, over his tight black jeans.

"Humph," Gaz grunted in reply, waving him off absently as she continued her game.

Dib left, heading to his car and starting it, and heading down the road. The sun was still rising, giving a pleasant orange light to the surrounding area. He smiled, holding the wheel with ease. Driving was so much easier than piloting a ship.

Just like every morning, Dib slowed down upon passing Zim's base, but this time, stopped just next to the path, staring in awe.

The vines had been removed, and the gnomes repositioned. They didn't move upon the vehicles presence, but it still made Dib uncomfortable. There was a large waste-bin just next to the fence, filled with the torn-down vines.

A sudden, small bang alarmed Dib out of his daze. He looked at the hood of his car, a small squirrel holding an acorn turned to look at him. It must have jumped onto his car. Groaning, he started his vehicle. It seemed to work to scare the creature away.

Despite the uneasy feeling in Dib's stomach, he drove off. The city must have been cleaning up. Or, someone probably bought the house. Something. He reached into the centre console and pulled out a cigarette from its pack, using the vehicle's lighter to light it.

He took a long puff off the cigarette, releasing the smoke into the air above his head, and cracked the window. His hands were shaking against the steering wheel, his heart beating about a thousand miles a minute.

"Strange…" he muttered, deciding to crank the stereo as he smoked and drove to school. He took another drag, not sure if the shiver was from the cool wind coming through the window or the nausea and discomfort.

It wasn't long before he was pulling onto campus, lighting another smoke, and tilting the seat in his car back after turning it off. He stared for a while at the ceiling, replaying their last moments in his head.

_"What the hell is wrong with you lately?"_

_"Nothing is wrong, DIB, now leave Zim be."_

_"We're friends now—sort of. You can talk to me. What is it?"_

_"The ALMIGHTY ZIM does not need to explain ANYTHING to the DIB-BEAST!"_

Zim disappeared the next day. Didn't show up for school. After a week, Dib began going to his house. Another week later he had broken in, if you could call it that. Nothing was locked. After another few weeks of this, people caught on. The house was bolted—but Dib, smart as he always was, managed to keep getting in. He was caught, of course; the police found the front door kicked in one day. Everything had been taken away, and Dib was taken into custody while standing in the middle of Zim's lab, staring at the blank computer screen.

He went…maybe just a little loopy after that. But everyone else seemed to have forgotten him. It was like Zim never existed, except for in his memory.

Rolling his eyes with an uncomfortable groan, attempting to shake the feeling off, Dib flicked the cigarette out the window of his car, rolling it up before he hopped out and made his way to his labs.

He finished his lab quickly—despite the fact that the rest of the room worked in groups, the professor had decided that since Dib was the best in the class, giving him to any one group would give them an "unfair advantage".  _"Yeah. Sure,"_  Dib thought as he left class, passing in the write-up to go with the lab work. Not that he minded working alone at all—in fact, he was quite used to it, and usually enjoyed it.

His next lab was a computer science lab—an elective. He found it rather boring, really. He had taught himself at a young age to hack into mainframes and other computer systems, so the coding that he was learning felt pretty useless to him. He'd known more than half of it already. Again, he burned through the assignment for the day and asked to leave when his professor came to check his progress.

"Yeah, sure Dib. Remember, your final project is due in two weeks," the professor said, offering Dib a cheerful smile.

Dib only nodded in response, shrugging his bag over his shoulder. He left the room and pulled out his cell phone.

Tea, get Keo and meet me at my car when you both are done class. I'll be at my car soon. Just finished the labs. -2:04 PM

ok! ill be on my way shortly. keo is just finishing his world issues class! :) -2:05 PM

Lol. Okay. See you soon. -2:05 PM

yeah! ;) -2:06 PM

Dib rolled his eyes, pocketing his phone and making his way down the stairs.

It was strange, coming to college. Not that the classes were strange—but for once in his life, he could walk around without recognizing every face he saw. Every now and then he'd run into a classmate on campus, but even then, the hello's were polite and in no way had anything to do with his "big head" or the paranormal or how he was crazy.

That followed him into high school, along with Zim. The two continued their antics for years. But then it sort of tapered off. They still yelled at each other, and tried to foil each other's plans when one of them had a new idea. But mostly they hung out. Talked over lunch. Watched TV. Sometimes they’d wrestle, and rarely—once in a blue moon, they’d get into a real fight and fall into old habits. Sometimes it got pretty nasty. Dib gently placed his hand on his chest, memories flooding back. However the majority of their time together, right up until Zim’s disappearance, they were just… at peace.

Dib thought it had become a friendship of sorts. Until he disappeared.

It startled him when he realized he was half-way through the parking lot. He already saw Tea and Keo waving at him, Tea bouncing into the air and squeaking with the excitement of a child. It pulled a smile along Dib's lips.

"Hey guys, we ready for this show, or what?" Dib asked, feigning a grin. What he saw this morning was still unnerving him, but hopefully the show tonight would keep his mind off of it.

"You bet!" Tea squealed, twirling a loose string of blond hair around his finger.

Keo grinned cheerfully. "Yeah, I am—hey, you alright?" he asked, startling Dib. Dammit. The only downside to having people that  _actually_  cared about you: usually they can tell when something’s wrong.

"W-what? Yeah. I'm fine," Dib said sheepishly, running a hand uncomfortably through his hair.

Tea immediately caught on, dropping flat to his feet and frowning. "No, Keo's right. Something's definitely up. What is it?"

Dib sighed and pulled out his smokes, leaning against the hood of his car. "Well," he said softly, not sure if he wanted to speak or not. They were his friends, but… finally, Dib caved. "I passed Zim's house, like I do every morning. And it was all cleaned up."

Tea looked at Dib in confusion. "Oh? Do you think it could've been the city?"

"I don't know," Dib replied with a shrug, taking a drag off his smoke. "I mean, after almost five years you'd think they could've sold the place by now. I mean, not that it's all that nice inside but it is roomy," he chuckled.

Keo grinned. "Yeah. I can only imagine. I would've loved to see it. But anyway," he said, leaning against the door next to Dib, but avoiding his cigarette, "That still must be tough. Watching things change like that, right before your eyes. It's like, you had something, right? Something to remember him by. Which, if they're cleaning it up to sell it, finally—it probably won't be the same anymore."

"Yeah," Dib sighed, glancing at his friends.

"Oh…" Tea mumbled, "This is kind of sad. I'm sorry, Dib," he muttered, leaning against Dib's shoulder and looking up at Dib with sad eyes.

Dib shook his head. "It's okay, guys. Really. It just…they leave it for so long and then decide to do something with the place now? It's weird."

"Yeah… I don't know, I wouldn't put too much thought into it until you know what's going on with it. Hey, let's go to the mall or something, grab something to eat, and then head to the show, okay?" Keo asked, and Dib smiled. He knew his friend was trying to help get his mind off the situation.

"Yeah, let's go."

"We can stay at my apartment tonight!" Tea offered, his grin and cheerful demeanor returning.

Dib nodded. "Sure, but someone else is gonna have to drive home."

Keo snickered. "Yeah, with what's going on right now, I give you permission to drink to your heart's content. I'll drive." Keo didn't own his own vehicle, but he did know how to drive. On the rare occasions when Dib needed someone to drive it for him—usually because he was intoxicated in some way or another, by some substance—Keo took the wheel.


	4. Connect

Zim watched the screen carefully, his grin fading until it was nonexistent. It was almost 7, and Dib still hadn't walked by. He considered, briefly, getting up and getting himself some snacks, before he saw a vehicle slow down in front of the base. His eyes narrowed.

Dropping his feet to the floor, the chair coming down with a small crash, he pulled himself closer and stared. He couldn't tell who was in the car.

"Computer! Zoom in on the front seat."

The computer did just that, zooming in until Dib's face was visible. He was staring at the house, looking bewildered and slightly nauseated.

"What on Irk—" Zim began, narrowing his red eyes. "The Dib-beast is—pierced? And what on Irk happened to his glasses?!" he shouted to himself, before shaking his head.

Quickly, Zim typed some commands into his computer, and waited. Out of nowhere, a squirrel dropped onto the hood of the car, scaring Dib. Zim snickered, watching as Dib got frustrated with himself and started the vehicle. The squirrel's job was complete, so it hopped off the car as it drove off.

Once the vehicle was out of sight, the squirrel promptly exploded.

Grinning, Zim stood up. "Computer! Give Zim the coordinates of Dib's location," he ordered, rummaging around his desk until her found his communicator, which he strapped to his wrist. The computer brought up the coordinates, which Zim promptly added to his communicator. A small map appeared on the screen, showing a red dot at Dib's vehicle's location. It wasn't exact, especially if Dib decided to walk somewhere, but it would have to do.

Zim pressed the speaker button on the panel. "Zek. Nui. Report to the lab immediately." He released the button, walking over to the centre of the lab, one of his spider-legs coming out of his pak to drop a device into his hand. Zim dropped it on the floor, tapping it with his foot. Taking a quick step back, the machine popped up to full-size.

"This will work much more nicely than what Zim had the first time around," he muttered, glancing up when he noticed the elevator doors opening. "Ah, yes. Come, Zim has located the Dib. We must disguise ourselves if we are not to be seen."

Zek and Nui looked at each other, nodded, and stepped forward. "I always hated those things," Nui muttered, and Zek nodded.

"You and me both."

"SILENCE! Zim will begin," Zim shouted, before stepping into the machine. It whirred into action, and when Zim came out, he looked much different. He was wearing a pair of black leather pants, knee-high boots with purple buckles, and a long, red, zippered hoodie with a spider on it, topped with a black leather vest. His wig and contacts were both improved, looking much more natural. His gloves and boots remained mostly the same shape, and his red hoodie was striped much like his uniform.

Although his skin was still green. He trusted, much like last time, the pathetic _huumans_ would not notice.

"Nui! You are next. Get in!" Zim ordered, taking a few steps back to let Nui step into the disguise-machine. After that, Zek had his turn.

When they came out, Nui was placed in a short, choppy brown wig with brown contacts, and was wearing a white and grey flannel shirt, a white fake-leather coat and white-wash jeans, while Zek had on a black, slightly curly wig, indigo-blue contacts, and was wearing a casual blackish-blue blazer with a high collar, a thick blue sweater, and a pair of dark blue jeans, rolled up once at the bottom.

"Huh," Nui muttered, looking down at himself, "By Irk, I'm kind of impressed, Zim. Now if only you could do something about our skin."

"I actually think I like this Earth style of clothing," Zek added with a nod.

Zim rolled his eyes. "Of course you are impressed!" he shouted, then added, "Huumans are soopid, they will not notice anything is amiss."

Zek shrugged. "If you say so."

With a huff, Zim turned harshly on his heel and made his way to the elevator, followed by the other two irkens.

"So..." Nui began, silencing himself when Zim glanced at him. Weakly, he continued, "what is it exactly that we're looking for?"

Zim looked ahead as the elevator doors closed and sprang into action, pushing them toward the top floor. His face was expressionless, holding his arms crossed on his chest. "Dib," he said simply.

His comrades looked at each other uncomfortably, but otherwise stayed silent. Zim clearly wasn't in the mood to talk about it.

To be honest, Zim wasn't sure if finding Dib would be the right decision. It had been so long. He wasn't sure if Dib would forgive him for leaving.

The elevator door slid open and Zim stepped out, followed by the others.

"Are we taking the voot cruiser, my—uh. Zim?" Zek asked as they stepped outside, standing on the gnome-surrounded path.

"Hrm. Too conspicuous. We will walk. GIR!" Zim shouted, and the SIR unit bounded out from the livingroom couch cheerfully.

"Yes, Master!"

"Disguise yourself," Zim ordered, arms still crossed. He watched as GIR's stealth-mode enabled, portraying him, instead of as a green talking-robot-dog, as a Doberman pinscher. It growled slightly, and Zim pulled a leash and collar out of his pak, attaching it to the neck of the SIR.

Nodding, mostly to himself, he glanced down at the communicator to watch the blinking red dot. He was startlingly far away—but Zim and his comrades had walked further distances before. Where on  _Irk_  was he? He started down the path, followed quickly by the others, turned the corner, and made his way toward the college.

It took them a while to arrive. Zim made his way to the growing-closer red dot, ignoring the glances he, Zek, and Nui had been getting by nosy college students. Eventually, he was standing near the back end of the parking lot, staring ahead.

There was Dib.

With two other humans, having an actual conversation. Laughing. Comforting?  _"The Dib never had friends before…"_  Zim thought, frowning.

"Zim? Is that him? Are we—" Nui began, but was interrupted.

"Silence," Zim murmured quietly. The Dib looked…different. Strange. They watched in silence while Dib opened the front door of his car, and his friends walked around to hop in on the other side. Glancing over his shoulder, Dib stopped.

Their eyes connected.

"… _Zim_?"


	5. Reunion

The two had been staring at each other for about a minute and a half before the other four began to get uncomfortable.

"Dib, is that…?" Tea asked quietly, tugging on Dib's sleeve. Wordless, Dib nodded.

"Oh my…" Keo murmured, leaning over the hood of the car to stare back and forth between the two of them.

Slowly, Zim straightened up to full height, walking in his very Zim-like manner toward Dib: a slight march, feet stomping. When he was about three feet away, he stopped—still about a full head shorter than Dib's 6'3; considering Zim's overall small stature, it brought him down to about 5'8.

"Dib-beast," Zim began, staring up at Dib with hard eyes.

Dib didn't reply for another long moment, staring down at Zim. His outfit was pretty similar to what he wore in high skool. At some point, Zim had to start changing what he wore to fit in better, especially when he began to grow taller, an unexpected development for the both of them.

"…what the fuck, Zim?" Dib began, eyes narrowing and hands balling into fists. "What the actual fuck? Are you fucking kidding me right now? It was you, this morning, wasn't it?"

"Zim is not—what?" It took Zim a second to understand what it was Dib was getting at. "Oh, yes. When you—yes. The squirrel. That was indeed Zim."

"What the fuck, seriously? What are you doing here? Now? Today? After—five fucking years, Zim?" Dib's shouting trailed off to a whisper, taking a step back until he was leaning uncomfortably against his car, almost pressing his back into the driver's-side window. Without thinking, Dib was pulling out his cigarettes and lighting one, taking a long puff as he waited uneasily for Zim's response. Tea and Keo cast knowing glances at one another, scurrying off to a nearby bench to give the two their space.

Zek and Nui did the same, sitting on the bench next to Keo and Tea's, and they all stared at each other and the other two awkwardly.

"…Zim expected such a reaction from the Dib. He supposes he does owe the Dib an explanation," he muttered.

"You fucking think so?" Dib replied sarcastically, pulled into himself, arms crossed into his chest with just enough movement to smoke.

Zim stuck his tongue out slightly, making a small hiss at the taste of the cigarette smoke wafting in the air. "Zim did not have time to say goodbye. Zim was ordered to return to Irk. If he did not, other Invaders would be sent to Earth to destroy it. Zim would not allow anyone other than the ALMIGHTY ZIM to destroy this filthy planet.

"Zim was also told that everything—had been a lie." Zim rambled, standing straight with his fingers laced together behind his back.

Dib didn't reply for a moment, before asking, "What had been a lie?"

"…Zim's mission," Zim said, glancing down at the ground before looking back at Zim. "A few months before I left. I was sent into space by the late Tallests, Pur and Red. I was a  _defective_ —they never intended on me actually finding a planet to conquer," he said, an angry snarl bubbling up from his chest, which puffed out as he stood tall. "And so, when they finally ordered me to return, on punishment of death and the threat of destroying Earth, I did as I was told and returned—to make myself Tallest." The Irken grinned widely, a darkness in his eyes that Dib had never seen.

A shiver ran up Dib's spine. He had never seen Zim like this before—he had a terrifying aura around him. He didn't know what to say, so he waited and let Zim continue. He wasn’t fully sure what Zim meant, but he had an idea.

"Zim had…much to attend to before he could come back to Earth," he said, slipping back into third person, "and no way to contact the Dib. Zim tried to contact Dib through his old radio system, and Tak's ship, but neither worked."

Dib shook his head. "I threw out all of my paranormal equipment."

"You—What? Why?"

"The one constant in my life disappeared, Zim. The one thing, the one person I could actually trust to be there had disappeared. Not only did you disappear, but nobody even remembered your name, or the fact that you went to my school. Everyone except Gaz, anyway. So, I got rid of all my paranormal garbage. I gave it up," Dib shrugged, looking away to the forest that edged the parking lot, taking another drag off his cigarette.

Zim's lips thinned into a frown. "Foolish," Zim grumbled, "Zim would have thought the Dib would have been smarter. Zim had to clear his existence on Earth. Wipe the huuman's memories in case something went wrong, or he could not come back. Remove all traces of himself in case the Tallests managed to get an Invader or a team here before I could return."

Dib rolled his eyes, flicking his smoke onto the concrete parking lot a few meters away. Ashes sparked as it bounced along the ground, cherry still burning. "Zim—I can't do this right now. I have plans," he grunted, walking to the front of his car and tugging off the chip left by the squirrel, flicking it away like he did the cigarette. "We're going out." He almost didn’t wait for Zim to reply as he opened the front door of his car, then he sighed and turned back to Zim. Something wouldn't let him leave well enough alone. "I'll come over tomorrow, I guess."

Tea shook his head. "Dib, if you can't come to the show we'll understand," he squeaked, bouncing uncomfortably back and forth on his heels. "If you wanted to talk things out with Zim, we can go and meet up with you after class tomorrow."

Dib shook his head. "Guys—no. It's fine," he began, but was interrupted by Keo.

"Maybe you should work this out, Dib. I think it'd be good for you," Keo said with a slight smile, "we can just take the bus back to town."

Dib groaned. He glanced at Zim, who was staring at him with a hard, mostly blank stare, hands together behind his back, chest still puffed up and head tilted slightly up. A look of expectation—and possibly, in Zim's strange way, hope. Dib rolled his eyes and hopped into the front seat. "Fine," he growled.

Zek and Nui glanced at each other, then at Dib and Zim, then at the other two humans. They both looked extremely uncomfortable.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow, and I'll text you later tonight," Dib muttered, waving to Tea and Keo.

"Okay, good luck!" Keo said, waving at Dib and glancing anxiously to Tea. The two walked off toward the bus stop, muttering to each other that they hoped everything would be okay, until they were out of Dib's earshot.

Dib slammed the driver's side door and rolled down the window. "Well, get in I guess. We'll go back to your place now and finish this conversation."

A toothy smile split across Zim’s face. He marched around the vehicle and hopped into the passenger side. He had been in a human vehicle a couple of times before, but it was still unusual to him. His memory returned to that day on _the bus_. She shivered. He didn't know that Dib had gotten a vehicle, either. It would be interesting to see if he piloted it with the expertise Dib showed at piloting a ship.

"You guys too," Dib grunted, looking at their disguises up and down. He saw through them immediately—he always could. He started the ignition as the other two hopped in the back, and was about to start driving until he looked at them. "Belts. I'm not getting a ticket."

Zim grunted and tugged the seatbelt around himself, and so did the others. Dib switched into first gear, and began out of the parking lot.

"So, who are your two lackeys?" Dib asked, eyes on the road, turning left out of the parking lot.

"Ah," Zim nodded, pointing to the back seat at Zek. "This is Zek," his gesture moved to the other, "and Nui. They are close friends of Zim. He has known them for a very long time."

"Hi," "Pleasure to meet you," Zek and Nui said at almost the same time.

Dib simply nodded, staying silent the rest of the drive. Zim watched Dib with interest. Although driving a car seemed much easier than piloting a ship, Dib still drove quite well—eyes on his surroundings, focused on the task at hand, shifting smoothly and keeping a constant speed. Zim turned his head to face forward, smirking.


	6. Conflict

Dib was sitting on Zim's couch, arms crossed. He stared at GIR, who had just changed back into his SIR unit form, while he made a very large mess in the kitchen. He rolled his eyes. Well, that hadn’t changed at least. Zim stood across from Dib in front of the TV, while the other two tried to settle down the SIR unit in the kitchen.

"So. Tell me what happened," Dib said, turning his gaze to Zim.

Zim nodded, sliding over to sit next to Dib. "A few years before Zim left, he learned that his whole mission had been a lie. That is when we began to become—friends," he shifted uncomfortably, "but after a few years, there was conflict on Irk. An uprising, as it were. Zim was ordered to return by the Tallests. He had been gone too long, had been wasting their time, and with the conflicts from the Resisty on top of those occurring on Irk, he knew he must leave. So I followed their orders and returned to Irk.

Once I got there, I realized they didn't call me back to help with the resistances. I was there to be executed. The threat to my life was not just a warning if I did not return, but was an inevitability. What they didn't know, however, was that I had fixed my pak and had years of failure and and self-hatred and bottled rage toward the Tallests, and I knew it was time to put an end to this. An end to the Resisty, an end to Tallests Red and Pur—their lies. Their schemes. Their failures as Tallests, as leaders." Zim sat up straight, staring at Dib with hard eyes. "I killed them and took their place as tallest of Irk. Thankfully, your odd gravity here on Earth and fixing my pak helped in the... height department."

 _'He...killed them?!'_ Dib glanced nervously at Zim, then down to his hands, fidgeting anxiously. Zim even looked intimidating for once. The more serious Zim got, the less often he spoke in third person. He didn't say anything in response, waiting for Zim to finish.

"Once I became tallest, I had much work to do. Cleaning up Irk and preparing for Impending Doom three. Dealing with the uprising and the Resisty. Like I said, Zim did try to contact you but was unable. My time on Irk lasted far longer than I had intended, but it was necessary. Once Impending Doom three began, Zim placed Tak in charge while he left to find you, and lay claim to this planet. As I said, I attempted multiple times to contact you while I was gone—but every signal Zim _did_ get through, was missed or ignored."

Dib stood up. Nope. That was not happening. "So, your plan to destroy Earth is still happening? Despite—everything? Our friendship? Disappearing without a trace and leaving me to the Crazy House for Boys?" He asked, eyes angry and hands in fists.

"No," Zim snapped and stood up to join Dib. "Zim is not destroying Earth. He has grown a fondness for this strange, hostile planet. It's people—not so much," Zim shivered and scowled, "but Zim knows that Dib would not allow Zim to destroy the filthy huumans, and Zim—I—do not desire to fight with you like we did years ago. There has been enough violence in the past few years."

"So what are you planning, then?" Dib growled, taking a step away from Zim.

"Nothing, really. Not anymore," Zim shrugged, sitting back down and crossing his arms. "Zim knows he could not get away with doing anything to this planet. Not while the Dib is on it. And now that the Dib has made friends, that would make this much more difficult. I intend to keep this planet for observational purposes only. To study human kind. Use your criminals for experiments," Zim smirked and glanced at Dib. "I do plan on infiltrating the governments. Mind control of some sort," he waved his hand in a nonchalant manner, "But otherwise, we will not interfere with the workings of this planet nor the people on it."

Dib relaxed slightly, lowering himself back onto the couch. "So that's why you're here," he muttered, still somewhat unconvinced, looking at Zim, still disguised, trying to find some clue of deceit in his face. He couldn't find anything. Zim was surprisingly expressionless, especially with those vast red eyes. "And me? What, I'm just a happy consequence?"

Zim rolled his eyes. "Would the Dib quit looking for conflict? By Irk, human, you have always thought everyone was against you. Most of the time, the Dib is right, Zim supposes, but this is not one of those times. Zim does not see Dib as a _consequence_ of anything. Zim—did not mean to leave you with nothing. But he could not leave anything behind, and if by some chance he did not return from Irk… if Zim failed… it was far easier if Dib thought he was gone for good."

Dib nodded slowly, sighing and placing his face in his hands. "It just… you have to understand where I'm coming from here. I don't know if we can just pick up where we left off. You were the one constant in my life that was actually any good. The one person I could rely on, even if it was mostly full of anger and insults and petty fights," he looked away from Zim. "And then you disappeared. You were gone, and I had nothing left. Nothing to fight for or against, and nobody here who gave a shit. It broke me. I'm not the same person anymore."

"Neither is Zim," the Irken replied, eyes narrowed but face calm. "Dib was the constant in Zim's life as well; Zim spent over ten Earth years on this planet. Even when I found out my time spent here was all a lie, you remained. I did not mean to hurt you."

The kitchen had gone silent, and the room filled with an air of unease. Dib glanced over at the two Irkens and the blue-eyed SIR unit, then back at Zim. "This... is too much right now. Can we finish this later?" Dib asked, standing up and turning toward the door.

Zim nodded. "Yes. Zim has work to attend to anyway. Will the Dib—"

"I'll be over tomorrow," Dib muttered, hurrying out the door, slamming it behind him, and hopping into the car. He slammed the car door in frustration—or maybe stress, or confusion, and leaned his head back. He lit another smoke, closing his eyes tightly.

 _'Dammit. All of a sudden, he's back, and what? I'm supposed to just let us pick back up where we were? And what in God's name has he turned into? I always knew Irkens were killers, but...'_  Dib thought to himself. He groaned and turned the key into the ignition, shifted from neutral to first, and zipped off Zim's street toward Tea's house.

xxxxxx

It only took a few minutes before Dib arrived at his friend's apartment. He stayed in the car and pulled out his phone.

Tea, I'm outside. This show starts in a couple hours, you two want to go still? -6:04 PM

Dib only had to wait a couple of minutes for Tea's reply.

omg. yes! keo and i will be down asap :) -6:06 PM

Okay. -6:06 PM

"ASAP" was right. Dib only had to wait another few minutes—one more cigarette later—and his friends were bounding out the door to the car. Keo called shotgun and hurried into the front seat, with a large pout from Tea, who clambered clumsily behind Keo's seat into the back.

"Hey guys," Dib said with a weak smile, flicking the cigarette butt out his window so that smoke wouldn't fill up the car.

"Hey!" Keo said with a grin that faded quickly into concern. "How did it go? We didn't think you'd still be coming out tonight."

"After the discussion we just had, I could really use a drink," Dib half-chuckled and half-scowled, waiting for his friends to buckle up before he turned from the curb to drive to the club that the band was performing at.

Tea leaned forward between the two front seats. "Well—how was it?" He pressed, eyes wide and face interested.

"It was—confusing, more than anything. I don't really know how to feel about the situation, you know? It's been five years. I was actually starting to think I imagined his existence here."

"Yeah, that's got to be pretty tough," Keo said. "But I'm sure it'll work out eventually, in its own way."

Dib smiled weakly. "I hope so."

xxxxxx

It took them ten minutes to arrive at the club downtown. Dib parked the vehicle—thankfully it was free parking after 6 PM. He hopped out, checking his wallet quickly for his ID and looked back at his friends as they climbed out of the car to follow him in. He tugged out the ticket, feeling a little better already. They had a little while to wait before the show, but Dib figured they could have a few drinks and relax before anything started.

The three entered into the club, handing the bouncer their tickets and ID's, hurrying in and grabbing a table near the stage, where the band was beginning to set up.

"I'll go grab us drinks! Dib, Keo, what do you guys want?" Tea asked, bouncing up and down cheerfully.

"Water," Keo said with a grin and a nod.

"Rum and coke," Dib snickered. Keo didn't drink, not usually. Sometimes he'd have a cooler or punch on holidays, but otherwise, he avoided everything. Drinking, smoking, drugs. He was straight-edge, and that was one of Dib's favourite qualities in him.

When Tea returned with the drinks, he sat down next to Keo and took a sip from his brightly coloured martini.

"Are you actually drinking an appletini right now?" Dib asked, grinning as he sipped from his rum and coke.

"Yes. Yes I am," Tea answered, sticking his pinky out goofily, taking another sip in a mock-classy manner.

"You're strange…" Keo said with a snicker before he turned to Dib. "So, tell us more about what happened. Unless you don't want to talk about it, in which case, that's cool! We can forget about it for now!"

Dib shook his head. "It's fine. It's nice having someone to talk to about this," he said, adjusting his glasses and looking over the rims of them at his friends. "Like I said, it was really strange to see him again. After all this time, after he just disappeared without a trace. When he left, I couldn't handle it. I went crazy. We hadn't even finished High School—one day he was his normal self, screaming about being  _huuman_ and talking to me about his plans to destroy Earth in front of my locker…"

Tea and Keo exchanged anxious glances, but otherwise stayed silent. Dib saw the look and chuckled.

"At that point, after how long he'd spent here, I didn't believe he was actually going to do it anymore. So a lot of the time we talked about how he was going to do it, and how I was going to ruin his plans. Otherwise, we did our classwork together. He teased me about my big head. I talked to him about how annoyed I was with my father working all the time. We walked home from school together. Then, the next day, he was just gone," Dib finished with a sigh, glancing out to the club floor.

It was still pretty quiet, but every few minutes a small group would enter with their tickets and find a seat, buy drinks. The conversation was still pretty quiet, and so was the music. The lights hadn't been set for the show yet, and the band was still hooking up their equipment.

"So, what really happened when he left?" Keo asked, "Whenever you mentioned it, you always kind of avoided that part," he said, taking a sip of his water.

Dib, instead, took a large gulp of his drink before he continued, "Well. At first, not much. I asked around the following week to see where he had gone, but it was like nobody knew who he was. Nobody remembered him. I started going over to his place and looking around, but—it was empty. The computers in the lab were all shut down and there wasn't anything Irken related left there. It was like the whole thing was a dream. All of a sudden, the only person I could rely on—even if it was just to fight—was gone. And nobody remembered him but me. After a few weeks, my dad must have caught on. The police showed up at Zim's place and found me in the lab, rummaging through drawers and trying to find something. Anything. They took me into custody and I… well," Dib laughed weakly, "you can figure out the rest. I spent a few months in the madhouse, then began to feign ignorance so I would be released. They let me out, I cleared out everything paranormal from my house, went back to school, and finished my high school degree."

Tea shook his head, staring at Dib in childish awe. "That must have been awful for you, Dib. I wish we were there, to give you some support," he muttered.

"Me too," Keo said with a nod. "I mean, Zim probably would have erased our memories too. But, he couldn't have erased our friendship. And we would have believed you, even if we didn't remember it. I'm sure of that."

Dib smiled at his friends. "Aw, hell, guys. What'd I do to deserve people like you?"

The rest of the night went without much of a hitch. They enjoyed the band and drank—or, Dib and Tea did anyway, and let the music and booze and good friendship carry them through the night.


	7. Infiltrate

Zim paced back and forth anxiously in the lab, hands locked tight behind his back. Gir bounced himself up and down across the room, squealing loudly and clinging tightly to a small rubber piggy, its eyes bugging out of its head. Zek and Nui were seated at different stations at the oversized computer, facing their Tallest.

"We need a plan to infiltrate the government, beginning with The City," Zim said with a nod, glancing up at his computer. "Computer! Who is the mayor? And who else is in power?"

**I DON’T KNOW.**

“Well, SEARCH IT.”

**FINE.**

The computer quickly began its search, bringing up images and webpages of the mayor, Kevin Crass, various large-scale companies, and of course, Professor Membrane. Zim narrowed his eyes at the screen, placing both hands on the control panel and leaning forward. "Hmm…"

"My Tall—" Zek began, but stopped when Zim raised one antennae in annoyance toward him without turning around. "Zim," he corrected, "From these pages here, it seems like the mayor and this Professor Membrane seem to possess the most power in this town. Perhaps we should begin with them, and then let them continue to control the rest of The City. It will be less conspicuous that way."

Zim nodded. "Yes… That seems like the most useful direction," he nodded quickly, stretching and glancing over at Nui who simply nodded in response. "Fine. We will begin with the infiltration tomorrow evening. Go do—whatever it is you two do to entertain yourselves!" he shouted, pointing one finger high in the air as he did so. "Zim is going out."

"Zim," Nui began cautiously, not wanting to offend his leader, who spun on his heels to stare at Nui with his antennae both perked high and eyes narrowed. "I just—wanted to ask about this Dib-human you wanted to see today. You told him everything. Things we didn't even know. Why was it so important you told him about what you're planning?"

Zim frowned visibly. Of course they listened to their earlier conversation. They were basically in the same room after all, and Zim couldn't fault Zek and Nui's curiosity toward the human. It was rare for Irkens to become friendly with anyone of a different species. He heaved a sigh. "Dib was…is…very important. We shall leave it at that for now," he muttered.

Zek and Nui nodded, accepting Zim's response as reasonable, not wanting to press the issue any further than necessary and risk causing negative reactions. Like shouting. Or violence.

"Zim has matters to attend to that do not involve being here. GIR!" Zim shouted, turning to the bouncing robot.

"YES, MY MASTER." The robot stopped, dropping the piggy on the floor, his eyes turning red and saluting at Zim.

"Stay on your guard. You, Zek, and Nui will guard the base tonight. Otherwise—go watch teevee or something," Zim waved his hand with a roll of his eyes, pressing a button on a device on his wrist—one that looked much like a watch—and his disguise activated. Nodding to himself, he turned on his heel and hopped into the elevator without a goodbye to the others, trusting it to take him where he wanted to go, no orders necessary: the ground floor.

He listened for a moment as Zek and Nui's voices faded to a quiet murmur, discussing the events of the day and other various topics in Irken. He allowed himself a weak smile. He knew the two of them were only looking out for his—and their planet's and race's—best interests. They were good soldiers, and in the past five years he had begun, almost, to think of them as friends. With a strict nod to himself, as if to clear his head, he marched out of the elevator and the front door, and made his way toward Dib's house. He hoped that by now, he would be home. It was just past midnight.

It only took Zim a few minutes to reach Dib's house. He still remembered the route perfectly. He looked up the side wall to Dib's bedroom. The light was on, but Dib's vehicle wasn't in the driveway. With a frown, Zim used the spider-like legs in his Pak to scale the wall and reach the window. Dib was laying on the bed, eyes closed, headphones on. Through the window, a sickly sweet smell reached his tongue and he hissed slightly. He remembered that smell from high school—alcohol. Dib didn't drink back then. Another scent wafted around him, one he could not identify immediately, but something chemical and odd. _‘Hmm…’_

Zim tapped gently on the window. When Dib didn't respond, he tapped a little louder until the human's eyes opened. Dib sat up quickly, looked nauseous for a moment, then shook his head and pulled off his headphones, listening again. Zim tapped the window one last time, causing Dib to look over. A frustrated expression crossed his face as he stood and walked over, opening the window and pulling out the screen.

"Zim? What are you doing here?" Dib asked, taking a step back to allow Zim to come in. He glanced at his door. "And be quiet, Gaz and Dad are asleep."

Zim simply nodded to the second question, climbing into the window with ease, his spider legs retracting into his pak. "Zim wanted to continue our discussion," he said finally to the first question, closing the window behind him.

"I'm a little tipsy right now, Zim, I don't think this is a good time," Dib grumbled, opening his desk drawer and rummaging through until he found some aspirin. "But, okay, I guess, if you need to talk about this now," he muttered, sitting on his bed and picking up a bottle of water from the sidetable. He swallowed the aspirin quickly and patted beside him on the bed.

Zim moved to sit next to Dib, but not so close. He didn't want to break any personal space boundaries. "Zim feels as though, perhaps he was not clear on his intentions here."

"No, you really weren't," Dib said with a shrug, "so clarify."

"Zim does not intend on changing much, if anything, of the way the planet is run. We are, however, going to infiltrate the government, beginning here, and then moving to a more global scale," Zim began, glancing over at Dib to make sure he was following. He looked groggy, and a little flustered, but otherwise he seemed to be listening. Zim could hear his heartbeat racing, but continued, "We are doing this to ensure that humanity does not catch on to Irk's plans for Earth. Considering the highly dangerous nature of the planet—the strange way that there are defense systems built into the planet's own geography—it will be used for study by our scientists. Zim would like to see if there is any way to utilize these tools for Irk's benefit during Impending Doom Three and future missions," Zim paused again, looking Dib up and down, who was rubbing his forehead.

"Is the Dib okay?" He asked cautiously.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine. I'm listening—study Earth's defence mechanisms and utilize it," Dib said with a nod and a weak smile to the Irken.

Zim simply nodded. "Yes. On top of that, we will be taking criminals from your prisons—another reason why we must infiltrate the government and those in power, so that these criminals can be taken without suspicion, and without your officials alerting the general population to our existence. Zim would like to discover what it is about humans that makes them so resilient, so powerful, with such high stamina, while at the same time being self-destructive and so destructive to its own planet and species. Zim no longer intends to destroy Earth in any way, and perhaps using the worst of your criminals to experiment on, the corrupt prison system throughout this planet can begin to be repaired," he finished with a nod, eyeing Dib to make sure that there were no qualms with this plan. If there were… he hated to admit it, and he never would out loud, but he would have to change his plans again.

Dib nodded. "Okay. Then—I suppose I can let you do that. Who knows, maybe infiltrating the government could benefit the planet as well as your species," he suggested, rubbing his temples. "Just, make sure you know the difference between different crimes and different criminals. You know, the difference between people who made a mistake versus someone who knowingly did something bad and illegal on purpose, and the difference between selling meth and raping and murdering," he suggested, tugging his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.

"Yes, Zim will—is the Dib  _sure_  he is alright?" Zim asked, antennae leaning back in concern.

"Just—having a hard time focusing, we drank a lot tonight," Dib laughed softly, turning to look at Zim. He frowned. "So, what about us?"

Zim cocked his head to the side. "What does the Dib mean?" he asked in confusion.

"I mean. We were kind of friends when you left. Wouldn't you say?"

"…Yes," Zim replied slowly.

"So what are we doing then? Did you… I don't know. Want help with your mission? I don't… think I can put everything behind me right now. But, that might give us somewhere to start." He stood up, walking over to the window and opening it. He rummaged through his pockets until he found his cigarettes, pulling one out and lighting it.

Zim hissed when the scent of the smoke hit his tongue. It burned his insides and made his mouth tingle. "Why does the Dib smoke those infernal things? Zim thought he would have learned from high school that they were disgusting, dangerous creations," he grumbled, briefly flashing back to horrible videos played in class about the dangers of smoking, and the utter horribleness it caused to human organs.

Dib laughed weakly. "I started quite a few new habits while you were gone, Zim," he muttered in response, taking a haul of the cigarette and breathing the smoke out the window. The wind carried most of it off, but a hint of it blew back into the room. He'd have to leave the window open and light some incense to keep the smell out.

"Oh? Aside from the drinking and smoking, then?" Zim asked, crossing his arms with his eyes narrowed. It wasn't his place to tell Dib what to do, but, he couldn't help but feel disappointed in the change in him. He used to be so strong. He never gave in to temptations or addictions, focusing on more important things. Protecting his planet and his family. The paranormal. Science.  _'Me.'_

"Uh, yeah. I'd…really rather not talk about it," Dib rubbed the back of his head, glancing over at Zim uneasily, who was seated on his bed.

Zim stood. It looked like it was time to leave. Dib was acting strangely and did not appear to want company. "Fine, if the Dib does not wish to discuss it… Zim will not continue." He slid off the bed and made his way toward the window, stopping when a hand tugged on his sleeve.

"Maybe I'll come by after class tomorrow?"

Zim didn't turn around. He simply nodded, using his spider legs to latch onto the window frame as he climbed out and dropped gently onto the grass. The long metal legs slipped back into his Pak almost soundlessly, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, finally looking back up at the window. Dib was leaning out slightly, cigarette slipped through his first two fingers tightly, watching.

"Get some rest, Dib-beast," Zim said, turning quickly on his heel and walking back toward the base.


	8. Differences

Dib flicked his cigarette out the window after Zim's departure, closing the window and replacing the screen. Zim's words didn't have their usual bite, despite the insult. He groaned, rubbing his head as he made his way to his desk, pulling out a string of incense and placing it in the holder, lighting it. He tugged his coat and jeans off, then his shirt as he got ready for bed, glancing at himself in the mirror.

His upper body was littered in scars, his tattoos only covering a few. He turned away quickly and began rummaging through his desk. Hands grasping what he'd been looking for, he pulled out an unlabeled pill bottle. Popping the lid and removing one, he examined the embossed pill before swallowing it down with some water.

"God dammit," he grumbled, laying on his back in bed, tugging the blankets tightly around himself. He stared at the ceiling, heart beginning to race and his room beginning to spin. He fell asleep quickly, but he did not sleep well.

xxxxxx

Dib's eyes fluttered open to the sound of his alarm going off. "Ughhh," he groaned loudly and rolled over, his head pounding. He shut off his alarm, glaring at the red lights that read 8:00 AM, cursing them, the sunlight piercing his window searing his eyes. At least he got a couple extra hours of sleep on Fridays. Slowly sitting up, Dib went to rub his eyes, realizing that he had left his glasses on all night.

"Christ," Dib murmured to himself, standing up and stretching. He needed a hot shower and some painkillers. He went over to his desk and grabbed the aspirin, taking two while chugging the bottle of water he had left at his desk. He felt dehydrated. Heaving an exasperated breath, he headed into the hall and then the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. Promptly, there was a knock on the door.

"Hurry up,  _Dib_ , I need to get ready for work," Gaz shouted through the door, and Dib rolled his eyes. Of course she'd wait until he was up, just to give him hell.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be out soon," he grumbled in response. That seemed to please his terrifying sister enough; he heard her footsteps as she left down the stairs, probably to have breakfast. Dib turned on the water to a nice medium-hot temperature, dropped his boxers, and hopped in, letting his mind wander.

_Knock, knock._

_The door in front of him opened, and Dib stared at the alien in confusion. "Zim? What are you doing here? You're soaked!"_

_"Yes, yes, and it BURNS! It BURNSSS! Let Zim in," the alien ordered._

_"Jesus. Okay, okay. I'll grab a towel," Dib said with a roll of his eyes, tugging Zim inside before hurrying up the stairs and grabbing a towel from the linen closet. He went back down—Zim had shut the door behind him and was snarling. He looked pathetic, and was sizzling slightly._

_"Is anyone home?"_

_"Uh—no. Dad took Gaz on a tour of the lab for 'bring your daughter to work day'," Dib replied, and promptly, Zim began tugging off the bulk of his soaked garments—boots, socks, gloves, and then sweater. For now, he also took off his dripping wig and pulled out his contacts, placing them on the small table next to the door. Dib passed him the towel, which Zim yanked from Dib's hands. "Do—uh. Do you need something to change into?"_

_"Hmph," Zim grunted without a real reply. Dib assumed that was a yes, and with an over-exaggerated roll of his eyes, just so he could be sure Zim saw it, he grabbed the Irken by the hand and dragged him upstairs to his room._

_"Don't you own an umbrella?" Dib asked, tugging out a pair of black pants and a t-shirt._

_"Zim did not expect it to begin raining," Zim grumbled, taking the clothes. "Stopping here was quicker than returning to Zim's base."_

_"Oh," Dib shrugged, "You can change in the bathroom. First door on the right."_

_Zim turned quickly and went into the bathroom to get changed. Once done he returned to Dib's room. "Yes. Well. Thank you, Dib-stink," Zim grumbled with a nod. "Zim shall leave now."_

_Dib shook his head. "No, bad idea, you need to let your stuff dry first, or you'll be back where you started when you got here. I'll throw your clothes in the dryer, and put your boots and gloves in front of the space heater." He gently took Zim's damp clothes from him, examining the burns on his fingers. They were already healing. Shaking his head so he wouldn't stare, he trudged downstairs to grab what Zim had left at the front door. He looked up the stairs, where Zim stood, looking confused. "Well? C'mon then, the dryer is downstairs."_

_Zim nodded silently and followed Dib into the basement, where he threw Zim's clothing into the dryer—with no fabric softener sheet, just in case—and placed Zim's boots and gloves on the floor next to the space heater, which he turned on._

_They spent the next hour sitting in his dad's lab, exchanging few words. What words they did share, however, had nothing to do with taking over the world. Foiling plans. Being annoying. Just that Zim had been picking up supplies for Gir to bake with, when it started pouring on his way home. Being closer to Dib's house, it was easier to stop there to escape the rain._

_'He came to me for help?' Dib thought, but didn't say anything._

_After everything was dry, and Zim had changed, they walked to the front door. Zim was about to leave when Dib stopped him. "Wait a minute."_

_Zim looked at Dib in annoyance and confusion as Dib opened the closet door, pulling out a jacket, one of his own black trench coats, and an umbrella._

_"This will—probably be big on you, but. That way you'll stay dry until you get home.”_

BANG BANG.

Dib snapped out of his trance, shampoo still bubbly in his hair.

"DIB. GET OUT BEFORE I MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING NIGHTMARE."

Dib cringed. "Okay, okay! Sorry!" he shouted, then thought, 'Not that you haven't already…', quickly rinsing the shampoo and rubbing himself with soap, rinsing off and hopping out, turning the water off. He wrapped a towel around his waist, opening the door just as Gaz was about to bang on the door, promptly punching Dib in the chest.

"Fuck! Ow!" Dib yelped, taking a step back. There was a split second where Gaz looked almost apologetic, but it faded immediately.

"You deserved that," she grunted, slipping past Dib and shoving him out of the room.

"Jesus…" Dib muttered, rubbing his sore chest and heading to his room to get dressed. The clock read 8:32 AM. "Crap, I _was_ in there for a while," he muttered, pulling his clothes on and grabbing his backpack and keys. "Bye, Gaz!" he shouted loud enough for her to hear, but got no response. He laughed a little and hurried out the door to his car.

Again, he slowed down in front of Zim's house, but this time he didn't stop. The gnomes stayed stagnant, and Gir popped his head up into the curtain and waved enthusiastically to him. Dib smiled weakly, speeding up again as he headed to class.

xxxxxx

Class was over, and it had been a  _long. Day_. He felt headachey all morning and afternoon, and had a difficult time focusing in his classes, even after a few large cups of coffee.  _'Shit. I have final assignments due soon, too…'_ he thought to himself as he made his way back to the car.

Dib tossed his bag onto the passenger seat, starting his car and turning from the parking lot. He let his mind wander as he drove back toward home, his mind bubbling to memories of high skool. Memories of Zim. Sighing gently, Dib took a left turn instead of driving straight home. After a few more minutes he had arrived. Dib parked on the street of the cul-de-sac, grabbing his phone but leaving his bag in the car. It wasn't like there was anything in there to steal.

Walking past the gnomes, Dib felt himself shiver. They didn't try to shoot at him anymore, but they still turned to follow him up to the door. Dib knocked on Zim's door, finally eye-level with the washroom sign, and within seconds Gir had opened it, squealing, and immediately attaching himself to Dib's head.

"Whu—GAK!" Dib yelped, taking a startled step back and staring in shock at Gir who continued squealing against his head.

"GIR. Get off of the Dib  _immediately_!" A shout sounded from inside, and with a squeak, Gir dropped to the ground and ran inside and into the kitchen. Which was covered in pink goo. Dib slowly entered the house, shutting the door behind himself and looking at Zim with a smile on his face.

"Some things haven't changed, eh?" Dib asked, running a hand through his hair nervously, the scythe bouncing above him. Zim shrugged in response, glancing over his shoulder as Gir began ripping apart the kitchen with some new cooking project.

"The Dib has changed very much," Zim said matter-of-factly, sitting down on the couch and motioning for Dib to join him. He did, plopping down none-too-gracefully beside Zim.

"I guess, but so have you," Dib said with a shrug, glancing down at his hands.

"Well...The Dib is covered in—pictures," Zim grunted, motioning to the tattoos on Dib's arms. "Irkens do not detail their skin except for...administrative purposes."

Dib glanced down at the tattoos peering from under his sleeves, knowing there were more that Zim hadn't seen. "Well, yeah. I started getting them in college. You know, people always say that once you get one, you can't stop. They're kind of right." Most of the tattoos on his right arm were paranormal related—caricatures of bigfoot and ghosts and other paranormal creatures. On his left arm, he had instead a 'scientific' sleeve: circuit board, a geometric design, some complex chemical compounds, and a section dedicated to space. He smiled weakly. "I have loads now, it's expensive but Dad doesn't seem to care what I use his money for so long as it isn't paranormal. Actually, you might like this one," he murmured softly, tugging his shirt up and off, turning his right side to Zim.

Zim reached out, gently touching the tattoo on Dib's left shoulder blade. "Why did Dib…?"

Dib smiled, tugging his shirt back on quickly so that Zim wouldn't see the scars. "Get the Invader symbol tattooed? I'm not sure. It felt right. After a few years, I felt like…I had kind of let go. Forgotten, even, a little bit. And I didn't want to. So I thought that I should have something there, even if it  _was_  all in my imagination like everyone said."

Zim frowned at Dib, opening his mouth to speak when the TV turned itself on, Zek and Nui standing and saluting.

"My Tallest," the two began, which only managed to illicit a growl out of Zim, "Zim," they corrected.

"We have made some developments on the government security breach. Did you wish to approve before we continue?" Zek asked, lowering his hand from the salute.

Zim shook his head and waved his arm in an,  _I really don't care_  manner. "No, Zim trusts your judgements. Do not bother Zim with this right now!"

"But, sir, there are other matters which need to be-"

"NOT RIGHT NOW!" Zim shouted, a hint of his old voice creeping in. It was almost comical.

Zek and Nui looked at each other anxiously, and the screen went black.

Dib frowned, staring at the blank screen, flabbergasted. "That one's skin is white," he said with a raised eyebrow, "Is that unusual?"

Zim nodded. "Yes. Nui is the only Irken Zim has met that has unpigmented skin."

"Wouldn't he have been... culled? By the other Irkens?" Dib questioned, and Zim smirked darkly.

"No. He is a great fighter, and he isn't terribly short. He has always been able to protect himself well. And although he is shorter than Zek and Zim, he has also always been tall enough to gain a fair amount of respect. Skin color, or shade of green more commonly, is of less importance than humans seem to believe it is," Zim said in a matter-of-factly manner, looking at Dib with an expression of,  _You-should-know-this._ "The only thing Irkens care about is whether or not you are strong, efficient, smart, and a good soldier. And tall." Zim straightened himself up, proud of his new height.

"Oh," Dib shrugged, rubbing his arms anxiously, despite being able to chuckle at Zim's attitude. He didn't say anything else for a long while, but was beginning to get uncomfortable with Zim staring at him so intently. "It's still so strange for you to be back," he murmured finally, after what felt like ages.

Zim frowned, leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms, one leg lifted over the other knee. "…Yes. Zim supposes it is not as easy for the Dib-huuman, considering how much time five years is to the measly huuman life-span."

Dib laughed weakly. "Yeah. It is a long time, Zim. But because of everything that happened… everyone telling me I was crazy, that you were never here, getting put in the madhouse, going to college and getting rid of all of my paranormal equipment…I had started to move on, you know. I was just starting to get over it when you showed up."

Zim listened to Dib intently, not daring to interrupt until Dib was finished. "Zim understands that this is difficult for Dib. And Zim is willing to give Dib as much time as he needs."

Dib glanced over at Zim, fidgeting uncomfortably. "Why are you being so understanding about this?" he asked, pulling himself straight. "You're… Different."

"Dib. Much has changed since Zim first arrived on earth. I learned that I was defective. You and I became… friends. I fixed my pak. Returned to Irk. Took over my planet. And Zim is not the only one who is  _different_."

Zim's words hung in the air as Dib listened quietly. He wasn't sure what to say, how to respond. What could he say? Zim had missed five years of his life. It wasn't an extreme amount of time or anything, but shit. A lot had happened—to the both of them, apparently. And Dib was an adult now, when Zim left they were seventeen.

"Zim understands this is difficult. It is difficult for me, too," Zim finished reassuringly, slowly reaching a gloved, clawed hand to Dib and placing it on his arm.

They hugged, once. Late in their friendship, just before he had left. Final year of highschool. Dib wasn't sure what was wrong with Zim, but he had been so… down.

_"There's nothing I can do to help?" Dib had asked._

_"Oh quit it, Dib-beast. There is NOTHING wrong with the Almighty ZIM!" Zim had shouted back on their way home from High Skool._

_"Dude, I just don't believe you. You haven't come up with a new plan to destroy Earth or to impress your Tallest or whatever in ages. And you haven't called me annoying once."_

_Zim just rolled his contacted eyes. "The filthy Dib-beast IS annoying," he said, but there was no weight to the insult._

_"Hey," Dib grabbed Zim's sleeve, stopping outside of the alien's house. "You can talk to me."_

_"…Zim cannot," was the only reply. Quiet. Too quiet for such a loud, obnoxious creature._

_Dib nodded. "Okay. Then, when you're ready. Or when you can. Do." He tugged on Zim's arm and pulled him in for a hug. "Whatever it is, it'll be okay. It has to be. It always is." It wasn't._

Now, however, the contact felt strange. They hardly touched when Zim was around, nevermind after disappearing for so long. However, it was welcomed. Dib placed his own five-fingered hand on top of Zim's. Finally, he chucked. "This is bizarre. Look, I came over to help with your project, huh? I have some work of my own to do too. And honestly, your fancy Irken tech was missed."

A chilling grin spread across Zim's face, before it lapsed into the goofy. His teeth seemed sharper now, but it was only for a second that Zim looked—almost evil. A shiver ran down Dib's spine.

"Yes! The Dib is right to have missed our brilliant technology. SO ADVANCED! Come to the lab, Dib-huuman," Zim drawled out the suffix, clutching harder onto Dib and dragging him over to… a proper elevator? That was new. He didn’t miss the toilet.


	9. Teamwork

Upon reaching the lab, Zim was pleased to see Dib’s expression changed. The big-headed boy was always awed and inspired by Irken technology (as he should be), but he never admitted it. Zim lead Dib over to where his main computer sat, large along the wall. Various machines, tools, and other assorted instruments lay along the walls and hung from the ceiling, all the cables returned to their original positions. Zim didn’t know what Zek and Nui were up to, but he was glad to have some space from them.

“Come, Dib. Zim will show you.” Zim sat down at his chair, cracking his knuckles before typing away on the Irken keyboard. He knew Dib could translate now—since finding Tak’s ship, the human spent an inordinate amount of time studying the language and technology. Dib would be perfectly adequate. He was interested, however, to see how the human attempted to pronounce his language, and it gave him a small chuckle and an odd glance from Dib. He silenced himself quickly and began pulling up pictures and information regarding his latest plan. It was just like old times, however, with Dib on his side now.

“We will begin with this town’s mayor, as well as…” Zim trailed off as a photo of Professor Membrane came up on screen.

“My dad…?” Dib asked, leaning onto the console. He looked concerned.

“I will not alter his personality. He should remain the same HORRIBLE parental figure. However, Zim will need to implant a chip into his and the mayor’s brain. Make them susceptible to control. Easy to manage from my computer. Or whoever the hell Zim decides to put in charge of it,” Zim waved his hand dismissively, glancing at Dib. “This is where Zim will need Dib’s help. We can begin with Membrane, and that will make it easier for us to reach the mayor.”

Dib nodded. “I guess that makes sense. As much as he’s been a horrible father, I don’t think I could bear to see him change, or anything bad to happen to him. You’re sure things will stay the same?”

“Of course. Unless Zim requires his assistance.”

A frown, but not a disagreement. “Okay. And we’re just going to go from there, huh?”

“Correct.”

“Okay. Well, come over to my place the next time Dad is home I guess, when you have your mind control… thingy. He’s always in his lab unless he’s moping about to lecture me, so.”

“Good,” Zim said in agreement, continuing to type away. “From this town, we can begin to infiltrate the mayors of the major cities until we reach the highest tiers in the governments world-wide. Zim does not need much help from them, aside from their willingness to obey their chips and follow orders. To ignore the Irken presence on Earth and continue business as usual, so that the Armada can begin its research on this strange hostile planet. Perhaps begin to understand how humans operate. You humans are strange, destructive creatures. And despite your weak… fleshiness, humans have a high self-preservation instinct and high stamina when running on adrenaline. These sorts of things will be useful to study for Irk’s continued Impending Dooms.”

Zim swiveled on his chair, eyeing Dib up and down. The human looked interested. He learned long ago that Dib had no real desire to protect Earth aside from obligation. His family, his planet, and now his friends. Zim knew if he kept everything mostly the same, Dib wouldn’t need a lot of convincing.

“Sounds like a great plan, Zim. Really. When did you get good at this stuff?” Dib smirked.

“Zim has always been _good,_ Dib-beast. Now that I am fully functional, however, I can more easily realize which plans will work and which will not, and how to correctly execute them. Having you on my side for once will also be beneficial.”

 “Is that your way of saying ‘thanks for the help’?” Dib laughed.

Zim scoffed, but didn’t say anything in response, tugging Dib by the sleeve to move him closer to the desk and computer. The two worked away together for just over an hour, planning their immediate next steps and their options for proceeding further outside of The City, backpacking off the plans that Zim’s ‘associates’ had prepared. Once they were finished—and Zim only decided they were finished because Dib had begun checking his irritating cell phone every few minutes—Zim turned to Dib.

“Did the Dib say he had his own work to do? If you would like, work on it here. Or you can go home,” the Irken offered, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head.

“I do. I’ll just have to grab my bag from my car,” Dib said, and Zim nodded, waving his arm to the side, toward the elevator.

“Yes, yes. Go collect your things. Simply ask the computer to take you where you want to go, and it will take you there. Usually.”

Dib gave Zim an incredulous look, but otherwise turned and left to the elevator to get his things. While he was gone, Zim sat at the desk and stared at the screen, and the large amount of information present on it. He was surprised that Dib was so willing to help him. Even in High Skool he was against all plans on taking over Earth, although Zim supposed this was different. He no longer had any intentions on destroying or changing the planet—as vicious and brutal as its geography was, and as revolting and damaged and primitive its people could be, he was somewhat in awe of it.

Zim took down the main documents, deciding to fulfill some of his Tallest duties and check in on Irk and the Armada, as well as with the beginnings of Impending Doom 3. Dib returned only a few minutes in, and Zim frowned at the smell of cigarette smoke wafting off of him.

“Ah, Dib. Zim has just begun some work of his own,” he said, glancing about. He did have another work station… it would have to do. “One moment. COMPUTER. Initiate backup station.”

**INITIATING BACKUP STATION. …INITIATION COMPLETE. STATION TWO FULLY FUNCTIONAL. JEEZ. I’M TIRED.**

Zim nodded to himself, touching his fingers to the screen to flick his documents and images and various other programs seemingly to the left—soundlessly and smoothly, they popped up on the screen across the room.

“Neat,” Dib said, and Zim felt something in him tingle at Dib’s interest. “Are you sure you don’t mind me hanging around? I could go home,” the human continued, meeting Zim by the now blank computer terminal.

Zim shrugged. “It is up to the Dib. He quickly typed in a command, and the screen and keyboard language began to shift—now revealing English instead of Irken. I am, however, interested in seeing what you _huumans_ work on at this… _college_.”

Zim watched Dib as he chuckled, pulling some work out of his bag and opening up a word processor and the internet, as well as a calculator, onto the screen. The calculator was similar to an average human scientific calculator, with a few different symbols added. A few were also blank, and Dib assumed it was because there was no conversion for them from Irken. If so, he wouldn’t need them anyway.

“Well, I’m double majoring in biochemistry and physics, but it’s different for everybody. Kind of like training, but for university it’s mostly theoretical,” Dib shrugged, “I’m in my second to last of my undergrad, though. They gave me special permission to do six classes a term on top of my labs, so I’m finishing my final assignments and my thesis. I was planning on doing a masters and PhD as well. Right now I’ve got to finish up a quantum mechanics assignment and a computer science project to finish. I’ve been thinking about astrophysics next.”

Dib pulled his assignments and notebook out of his bag, as well as a pencil, and a couple textbooks. Zim watched over Dib’s shoulder for a while. He was always amazed by how smart Dib really was—sure, it took him a lot longer to figure out Irken technology, and as a child Dib tended to go overboard which caused malfunctions (Zim could admit to being the same way), but he honestly was incredibly smart. Maybe giving himself a break from the paranormal was actually beneficial; however, Zim did miss that aspect of Dib. He hadn’t once mentioned anything paranormal since Zim returned to Earth.

Zim watched for a while longer as he completed his assignments, but noticing that Dib was becoming ingrained in his work, he figured it was time to finish his own.

Being Tallest kind of sucked. Go figure.

Zim sat himself down at his desk. His work consisted of managing the goings-on of Irk and the Armada, ensuring that the Invaders were progressing well on their planets, and of course, ensuring the prisoners of the Uprising and the Resisty were still well secured in their prisons. Irk had the best prisons. The best! Nobody has better, more-stable prisons than Irk.

Zim figured he should probably execute them at some point. Or, at least the worst ones, and soon, to ensure he still had the loyalty and fear of his subjects; however, he honestly wasn’t sure he wanted to. Stupid DIB and his contagious compassion.

A few hours passed before Zim stood up. “Computer, shut down station. Dib-stink?” he called over his shoulder to the human, turning and making his way across the room. Dib was already packing his things.

“Yeah? How’d it go?”

“ANNOYING!” Zim shouted in response, throwing his hands in the air and scowling. “Ruling the most AMAZING species in the universe is BORING! Amazing. But BORING!” He crossed his arms high over his chest, antennae smoothing back against his head, long tongue hissing out of his mouth.

When he heard Dib laugh—not a chuckle, or a scoff, or that odd half-smile half-breathe thing humans do, a real, honest-to-Irk laugh—he turned to look at the human. He felt his skin warm.

“Being a leader is tough business, huh?” Dib asked, tugging his bookbag over his shoulder. “I’ve finished my work for tonight, anyway, so I’m gonna head home. Good teamwork today.”

Zim huffed in exasperation at Dib’s question. “Yes, yes. You may leave! We shall resume our plan in the next few days.”

“Mm. Come over later this week. I’ve got a few more assignments to do, but I’ll be free otherwise.” Dib said, and with an awkward pat on Zim’s shoulder, Dib turned to leave.

“Wait,” Zim grabbed the sleeve of Dib’s shirt as he was moving away. Dib turned to face him, confused. “Zim…appreciates the help.” He could feel the antennae on his head twitching to both his discomfort at the interaction and at his boredom slash stress over commanding Irk. As he dropped his hand from Dib’s wrist, an odd expression passed across Dib’s face, and before Zim knew what was happening, instead of speaking Dib reached out with his other hand to touch one of the velvety appendages.

The moment Dib’s fingertips brushed against them, Zim hissed, snatching Dib’s wrist tightly in his claws, eyes darkening. Too tightly, digging his nails in and drawing blood as he stepped away from the human.

“SHIT, Zim, what the fuck?” Dib snatched his arm back, digging the claws in deeper and ripping, holding his wrist tightly, He looked down at his sleeve, which was quickly staining red.

Zim’s eyes widened. “Oh, for the love of—Irk, Dib-beast, one doesn’t just—ugh. Sit down. Zim didn’t mean to—” Zim babbled and trailed off, plopping Dib down harshly back into the computer chair, muttering and scowling and cursing himself under his breath while he wandered through the lab, finally pulling over a silver doctor’s tray with tools and a couple of bottles on it.

“Shit, I mean, it’s okay, but fuck. Ow,” Dib grumbled.

“Move your sleeve,” Zim ordered as he returned, grabbing the other chair to sit across from Dib.

Dib frowned hard at Zim, still gripping his wrist.

“Irk, Dib, you must do as Zim says or he cannot treat your wounds. That he inflicted… because you were being _stoopid_.” Zim muttered.

“Still suck at apologies,” Dib grumbled, pulling his sleeve up slowly to reveal his paranormal sleeve, the puncture marks, and attaching scratch wounds in his wrist.

Zim stared for a moment at Dib’s arm, shaking his head and setting to work. “This will sting a little,” he muttered, putting what appeared to be some kind of thin ointment into the wounds before grabbing his stitching tools. Dib winced, but made no sound. “Of course Zim did not mean to hurt the Dib. But one does not touch antennae. Ever.”

“Sorry. I’ll keep that in mind. They just look neat. And soft.”

Zim rolled his eyes, beginning to stitch the lacerations. Dib was still wincing. Low pain tolerance, that big-headed boy. “They are. And sensitive. They are what Irkens hear with. They aid in our balance. They sense vibrations in the air, as well as aid to our sense of smell along with our tongue as we do not have weird noses like you humans. They are easily damaged and not to be touched by someone with unskilled hands. Or anyone, really. _Ever_ ,” the Invader repeated.

“Okay, okay. I get it. Jeez. I won’t do it again, I’m sorry. Fuck, that stings,” Dib whined.

“Zim warned you. And stop your incessant whining. The first ointment was to avoid infection. After stitching, I will apply another that should speed the healing process. Hopefully. Or it will burn through your skin. We will not know until we try.”

“…I don’t mind scars, we could just avoid that step you know,” Dib said, staring fearfully at Zim.

Zim grinned wickedly at Dib. “I have learned _to joke_ , Dib. Are you not IMPRESSED?!”

Dib burst out laughing, not at the joke itself, but Zim’s pride in his own humour. Zim simply snickered to himself, glad to distract the human from the pain he knew he had, and was still, causing. Zim finished with the stitching. Of course, because of Zim’s _amazingness_ , the stitches were neat and clean. After, he put the final ointment on, which was a little thicker than the previous. Once done, Zim neatly applied a bandage around Dib’s wrist.

“Do not tamper with this for at least twenty-four hours. After that, it will need to be cleaned at least daily until—”

“Zim. I know how to take care of a wound. You’ve given me plenty, remember?”

Zim grinned up at Dib. He was correct, of course. The two got into fights right up into high skool, and sometimes they got pretty ugly. Usually Dib walked away with the worst of it, not for lack of trying, nor skill, but simply because he was fleshier and had less scratchy-and-bitey bits.

Dib stood up slowly. “Look, I should go,” he said, smiling weakly at Zim. The Dib looked…anxious? Or needy, perhaps? Zim couldn’t articulate the expression—it wasn’t one he was particularly familiar with. Perhaps the hurt in his hand. Zim felt a wave of guilt slip around in his insides.

“Yes. The Dib should go. Zim should regroup with Zek and Nui.” After a brief wave, the two parted ways, Dib disappearing into the elevator. Zim heaved an uneasy sigh, plopping himself down in his computer chair. He opened his communicator. “Zek. Locate your partner and return to Zim’s base IMMEDIATELY!”


	10. Argumentative

As the next weekend rolled around—it had been almost a week, actually, since Zim and Dib met up together—Dib was realizing more and more that he felt significantly uncomfortable with Zim’s plan. He didn’t realize it’d be that much of a problem when he agreed to it, it even seemed like a pretty good plan—and when he was in there, in Zim’s lab, working together on this project like an actual team…it felt nice. And he thought that the plan wasn’t that bad; Zim wouldn’t actually be hurting anyone, except for, potentially, high-profile murderers.

But then again, experimenting and possibly torturing _any_ person was wrong. Two wrongs, yada yada. Dib sat in his room. He hadn’t seen Zim for a few days. It was now Sunday. He only had two major assignments left for the term, and his thesis. On that Sunday night, alone at the desk in his room and staring at the work in front of him, Dib made a few realizations. One—he really didn’t want Zim to use mind control on his father, despite how much of a dick the guy could be. Two—he didn’t want anyone on Earth to have mind control devices. He thought it was ridiculous. Three—he thought that human testing and experimentation was way beyond wrong, even on the worst criminals. He believed they should rot in a cell. Four—he stared at the pill bottle in front of his monitor and the two pills that had appeared miraculously in the palm of his hand; he had a drug problem.

Honestly, Dib thought he was over it. Once Zim showed up, he’d only taken the amphetamines once—the night he, Tea, and Keo went out drinking together at that show. It was just a party drug, right? However, thinking back to all the times he had taken them since beginning university, he knew he had a problem. He took them when things were hard. He took them when he was stressed. Arguments with his family. Having too much work. When he was depressed and thinking about Zim. Whenever he drank, he took them. And now. He continued to stare at the pills, using his other hand to reach out, meaning to throw the bottle into the garbage—

But he couldn’t. Groaning loudly and leaning back into his chair, he popped the two in his hand into his mouth, and swallowed them with a sip from his cola can. It didn’t take very long for the effects to kick in. Dib stared at the ceiling, thinking all of these things over in his head, before he started to feel much better. Awake, focused, alert. He leaned toward his books again, and continued to work, after setting on some music in the background on his computer, blaring the speakers. Nobody was home, anyway, so he didn’t have to worry about waking anyone.

Dib managed to get through most of one assignment before he heard a tapping on the window outside his room. Before he knew what was happening, turning around in his chair to look at the window, Zim was opening it and slipping inside, dropping easily onto the floor and hiding his PAK legs.

“Zim? What’re you doing here?” Dib asked incredulously.

Zim raised an antenna at Dib at the same time as he narrowed the opposite eye. “The Dib-beast was going to take me to the Membrane creature. So we could begin on our plan.”

Right. “Right,” Dib echoed his own brain, glancing over his shoulder uncomfortably. “Well, he’s actually not here right now. He’s at the lab, and he’ll be on serious lockdown all night.” He wasn’t lying.

Now, both of Zim’s eyes narrowed. “The Dib told Zim he would be here this weekend.”

“He was, he was here yesterday and earlier today, but I’m sorry—I got so distracted with the last of my work,” Dib gestured to the work behind him. He saw the pill bottle still out. He quickly swiveled in his chair to hide the pill bottle and pretend to be adjusting his work. “Sorry Zim,” he used the sound of his voice to, hopefully, distract the Irken. “I really meant to come over or call your base but I just didn’t have a chance.” Also not a lie—however, he did expect Zim to show up earlier than he did. Dib turned in his chair again, startled to find Zim right in front of him, glowering.

“Is the Dib hiding something?” Zim asked, a growl rising up from his throat.

“Excuse me?” Dib put on an expression of offence.

“Zim asked if the Dib was hiding something,” Zim repeated, looking over the human’s shoulder to examine his monitor and workbooks.

“I heard you, I just don’t understand the premise,” Dib pushed Zim back gently by the shoulder. “Look, I’m really sorry I didn’t contact you, like I said. But I got busy and nobody is here right now. We can do this later this week, okay? It’s just a busy time for me right now.”

Zim stared down at Dib, his expression now neutral, hands laced behind his back. “Hm. Very well, _Dib-stink_. But I expect you to ALERT THE ALMIGHTY ZIM if Dib’s parental unit arrives! Take this,” he said, one spider-leg exiting his PAK with a small device attached to it. Dib took it. It looked like a smartwatch with a digital display. “This is a communicator, similar to the one Zim has. It will be the quickest and easiest way to contact one another.” Zim turned quickly and made his way back to the window, Dib staring at the Irken in confusion—his head was now pounding, along with his heart—and as Zim was half-way through the window, the alien turned back to Dib with dark eyes and an intense expression. “And do not lie to me again.”

With that, Zim was through the window, a metal appendage closing it behind him. Zim caught him in his lie so easily. And there had been more than one—first about his dad, and hiding the pill bottle… Dib stared in awe and slight horror at the window. He was shivering. That look made him uncomfortable. He turned to face his work.

…but was it really discomfort? “Oh God no,” Dib groaned to himself. He grabbed fistfuls of his hair. Shit. Since Zim’s been gone, these thoughts had disappeared completely. And since he hadn’t experienced it since he was a teenager, he chalked it up to just hormones and the fact that nobody else in this city gave him the time of day. “Fuck,” Dib growled, unsure if the tingling in his stomach was because of the drugs or because of—no. He wouldn’t even qualify it with words. He decided to just stop thinking.

And promptly grabbed his waste bin and threw up.

xxxxxx

The next morning, Dib’s alarm clock went off with its usual, horrible ringing. Dib rolled over groggily and turned it off. He gave the finger to the flashing lights. 7:00 felt earlier than it was. He felt like he’d gotten no sleep last night.

Which he didn’t—what with the amphetamines, Zim’s visit, the sudden wave of sickness (which lasted for over an hour), as well as completing one of his two last assignments, he didn’t wind up asleep until almost 4. He just couldn’t shut his brain down.

Groaning loudly, he hauled himself out of the bed, rummaging through the “clean” pile at the end of his bed to find something to wear. Sure, this’ll do. He yanked on a pair of black jeans and a grey t-shirt with a ghost cartoon on the front. He hurried into the bathroom to brush his teeth, returned only to grab his assignments and his bag, and headed downstairs to get breakfast.

“Morning Gaz,” he mumbled, rummaging through the cupboards to get a box of cereal.

“Finish off the Frosty O’s and I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

“Ooookay. Do you work today?” Dib asked, tugging the healthier option off the shelf and grabbing a bowl. “What time did you get home last night?”

“Yes. None of your business.”

Dib simply assumed she’d be working a later shift at the videogame store, considering she was out at least as late as he had stayed up. He’d heard his Dad come home around 1. How she functioned on that little sleep, Dib had no idea.

He finished his cereal and put his dishes in the sink, heading out, stopping to put his boots and trench coat on—so much nicer than the one he had as a kid. “See ya, Gaz.”

“Humph.”

The drive to university went the same as it always did. As usual, he slowed down in front of Zim’s house, but didn’t stop. He sighed. He knew he’d have to say something about changing his mind, but he didn’t want the argument. He didn’t give Zim his word, or anything, but they’d already started. He’d already agreed to it. He had said it was fine. _‘Dammit, Dib, why do you do this to yourself?’_ He sped away from the house, worried that if he stalled too long Zim would come out and chase after the car. It wouldn’t be out of character.

Dib parked in the lot, lighting a cigarette and leaning back in his seat. This was going to be a stressful few days. He knew he couldn’t lie to Zim—he hadn’t even _lied_ by the definition of the word, and Zim knew something was up. He always knows, it’s like he can smell deceit.

Dib guessed he’d have to after everything the poor sap had been through. He checked his phone. No messages, and it was time to head to class.

Dib exited and locked his car, continuing to smoke until he made it to class. He had a physics class today. He arrived and settled into his seat, near the middle of the room—as inconspicuous as possible. He knew he looked like trash today. The lecture was fine, but boring because it was a topic Dib already knew. He zoned out most of the class, staring into his textbook without taking notes and thinking about the argument he knew he was going to have with Zim.

At the end of the class, after the professor assigned their final readings, he caught Dib on his way out.

“Dib? Come speak with me for a moment.”

“Oh. Sure thing, professor. What’s up?” Dib asked, as he turned and approached the senior lecturer at his podium.

“Dib, you’ve shown amazing prowess throughout this class, as well as the joined lab. I’ve had you for four of my courses and two labs, now, and you’ve consistently gotten in the top percentile each time,” the professor—Dr. Shoen—said with a wide smile and a glint in his eyes.

“Oh.” Dib could feel himself blushing, glancing away. “Thank you, sir. It means a lot. I’ve enjoyed your classes so far.”

Dr. Shoen chuckled. “You haven’t, not particularly, but I have a feeling considering how smart and adaptive you are, as well as being from such a high-profile scientific family, you’ve done this all before.”

 _‘Not at home,’_ Dib thought. Everything scientific he’d learned that had any real use came from his fights with Zim, and perhaps some inherent talent at it, rather than lessons from his father. “I have, yeah.”

“I have a proposition for you, Dib. Your final year is coming to an end, and I know you’re considering further education. What is it you want to do?”

“Uh. Astrophysics, actually.” A proposition…?

“I’d like you to T.A. for a couple first year classes in your final year. We’re also opening up some new courses that I think you would appreciate—Cosmology, Advanced astronomy. You’d also be taking Multivariable Calculus for Engineers and Scientists, Galactic Astrophysics, and Planetary Astrophysics to name the courses for first term. You’d have to drop biology to make time to T.A., but you’d be paid for it.”

Dib stared in awe at the professor. “You…want me to be a teaching assistant?”

“Definitely. You don’t have to decide right now, but, think it over. I think it’d be a great opportunity for you.”

“I…I will. Thank you, professor.”

Dr. Shoen shook Dib’s hand as they said goodbye. Dib hurried out of the classroom. Once he got into his car, he immediately beelined for Zim’s house.

xxxxxx

Dib stood at the front door, staring at it for a long time. He’d already had two cigarettes, littering their butts on Zim’s porch. He was half-way through a third, having a staring-contest with the bathroom sign, when Zim threw the door open. Zek and Nui were with him, and Gir was nowhere to be seen. The TV was off, and it was quiet.

“…Dib-beast? What are you doing standing on Zim’s porch and not moving?” Zim asked accusingly.

“Um. Can I come in?”

“Yes, yes, the Dib may enter,” Zim waved his hand, slamming the door behind the human and returning to his position in the middle of the room with another wary glance at Dib. “We were just discussing the plans. We have mapped out how we will get from Membrane, to the mayor, then from the mayor to higher levels of governments and important officials across Earth.”

“Uh. That’s why I’m here actually—”

“EXCELLENT! If the Dib’s parental unit is home, then we can begin!”

“Oh, that’s not what I—”

“You must take Zim now! I am eager to start.”

“ZIM. That’s not what I meant.”

Zim’s eyes narrowed in confusion, one antenna rising as he turned to face Dib properly. “What did you mean?”

“I mean—I don’t—I’m starting to second guess this whole thing,” Dib began fidgeting as he spoke, but knew that if he didn’t babble and say it all at once, Zim would interrupt without hearing him out. “Look, I know I agreed to this and I honestly thought it was a good idea at first, and working with you on it was great, you know, we actually felt like a team, and I missed that, and of course I missed you since you were gone for so long, but, I honestly think it might be a very bad idea and its started to make me feel sick. I know you’d only be experimenting on criminals, but I feel like if we did that, how would we be better than them, you know? I don’t think we need to do that whole ‘an eye for an eye’ thing, live experimentation—it’s just wrong. And controlling my father? Yeah, I know he’s a dick but I just can’t stomach the idea of you controlling his thoughts and his actions, and I just—I can’t. I can’t do it.”

Zim stood quietly while Dib rambled. Too quietly. He stared at Dib expressionless, Zek and Nui exchanging nervous glances between each other.

“Zim…?”

“So the Dib has changed his mind. We discussed this, Dib, and I told you exactly how this would work. I would not be altering your pathetic father-creature. And experimenting on sick, twisted humans who have done horrible things does not sound like ‘an eye for an eye’ to me. You were on board. You were willing to do this. _Why_ the sudden change, Dib?” As Zim spoke, he slowly walked toward Dib, his eyes darkening and narrowing and intensifying until Dib didn’t know what was happening. All of a sudden he was backed against the door, with Zim only centimeters away, boring holes into his skull with those _damn eyes_. His voice, his stride, nothing faltered: he was smooth, almost like he wasn’t moving at all. Chills ran down Dib’s spine. Heat ran everywhere else. _‘Jesus…not now, brain!’_

“I…I’ve spent a lot of time thinking it over. My moral compass just isn’t letting me agree with this. I can’t let you, Zim, I just—”

Before Dib could finish, Zim was grabbing Dib by the lapels of his trench coat, snarling at him. “How _dare_ you turn your back on me, _human_. Perhaps you have not learned the meaning of a partnership. _Why_ didn’t you just tell Zim before?!”

“Because I didn’t think about it hard enough I guess!” Dib shouted back, getting _particularly_ uncomfortable with having Zim this close to him. “Because it was still so new, you being back, and missing having you around, and the idea of being on your side—”

“You are the one who asked if Zim wanted help!” Zim was getting closer, growling deeper.

“It was sort of spur-of-the-moment!”

“I am not going back on my plans now, Dib,” Zim snarled, his face almost touching Dib’s.

By now, his anger overpowered his—whatever it was. “No, no way. I cannot let you do that, Zim.”

“Zim does not have a choice! I am the Tallest of the most powerful species in the galaxy! If I do not set _some_ sort example for my people then _what am I_?!”

“I’m not letting you mind-control the government or experiment on humans. It’s just ethically—wrong! I’m sorry I’ve put you in this predicament for your people, but maybe you should’ve _thought about that_ before deciding you’d do it to _my planet_.”

The two began shouting at each other loudly. At this point, Dib couldn’t even tell what they were arguing about—the ‘argument’ quickly divulged into petty insults and shoving each other back-and-forth, before Zim grabbed Dib, moving him around and tackling him to the ground where they began to wrestle, punching and scratching and clawing and shouting the whole time. Dib had forgotten how strong Zim actually was, considering he was so much smaller and had a more lithe frame than Dib. Every time he escaped from Zim’s hold, he was pinned again. He didn’t even think he was doing any damage.

Zek and Nui huddled together, terrified, on the couch.

**INCOMING TRANSMISSION FROM… CAPITAL VAULT 47-B.**

Zim froze. Dib was beneath Zim, ready to shove Zim off, until Zim stared at the screen. “Answer transmission.”

Suddenly, the screen lit up with two female Irkens, sitting side-by-side, one with red eyes and one with magenta. They saluted immediately. “My Tall—uh. My Tallest?” they said in unison.

Zim glanced down at Dib. He was currently straddling the human’s hips, pinning him down by the wrists and had previously been snarling. With a roll of his eyes, and what Dib thought to be a deep green flush in his cheeks, Zim stood and hauled Dib up, pushing him to sit between the two others on the couch. All three exchanged anxious glances.

“Yes, yes, Sergeants Tara and Mira. What do you want from _Ziiiiim_?” he drawled, clenching his fist and rising it, slightly shaking, in the air. An old classic that Dib remembered well.

“We…have a problem, my Tallest,” the magenta-eyed Irken said.

“A problem? What kind of problem?” Zim asked.

“Um. There has been. A. Uh. Securitybreachinthevaultandaprisonerhasescaped,” the red-eyed Irken answered quickly.

Zim stared at the screen. He began glowering. “ _Who._ ” It was an order less than a question.

“Prisoner number 1567, my Tallest. Dexan.”

“ _How_ exactly did prisoner 1567 escape, Sergeants Tara and Mira? I believe it is your job to ensure the highest level of security at Capital Vault 47-B.” Zim’s eyes were narrowed almost to slits, and he had his arms crossed over his chest. Dib looked from Zim to the two on the screen. What was even happening here?

The two Irkens exchanged terrified glances. “We believe someone broke him out—our computer systems were briefly highjacked. We have no idea how they managed to hack it. Because it was only one prisoner, and the breach was only his specific cell, we must assume it was planned. But…um. That isn’t all.”

Zim snarled, the comment enough to push him over the edge. “PRISONER 1567 ESCAPES FROM THE HIGHEST SECURITY PRISON IN ALL KNOWN GALAXIES, AND THAT’S NOT ALL?” He shouted, now, voice reaching the same squeaky pitch he used to always have. Everyone cringed.

“It’s…the control brains. They’re attempting to reinstate Red and Purple’s harsher laws as well as older, archaic law… and are executing those that don’t follow them. I think you should return to Irk, my Tallest.” The red-eyed Irken was fidgeting as she spoke.

“…Zim knew he should have destroyed those filthy control brains when he removed Red and Purple from power…this is not good. At all.”

Dib watched as the three of them continued to speak. Zim was going back to Irk? Maybe that meant he’d get his way in the end in regard to Earth. But now…Zim was potentially leaving again, and even though they’d picked back up where they left off—mostly—it seemed like Zim would be far too busy…he hadn’t even had a chance to tell Zim about his potential job, and the expansion in his field of study for next year.

Dib began rubbing his temples stressfully, waiting for the conversation to end as Zek and Nui joined in, the language slowly shifting from English to Irken. He could read it, and understand bits and pieces, but he began to zone out anyway so any context clues were lost.

This really was going to be a long day.


	11. Doses

The transmission finally ended, and the three Irkens actually in the room fell into silence. Zim snapped something in Irken to the shorter two, and immediately they made their way to the elevator and disappeared into the depths of the base. Zim slowly turned to Dib, who found himself fidgeting.

“Dib-human. It appears Zim must return to Irk. These issues are very serious. The control brains think they can act as leaders in my absence—I will no longer allow a machine to take the place that should rightfully be held by an Irken. And the prisoner…” he trailed off.

“I…don’t know what to say.”

Zim made his way over to the couch, gently dropping himself down beside Dib with a heavy sigh. “Zim will cancel his plans on Earth. I cannot justify placing someone else in charge of this planet, after all.”

Dib smiled weakly. “That’s good news, but…I don’t…want you to leave again. We just—started over. And now we’d be able to talk over communicator, but…you’ll be busy.”

Slowly, Zim reached a clawed hand out and placed it gently on Dib’s wrist. He was looking at the human softly, but intently. Dib’s heart rate quickened. “Zim does not plan on leaving the Dib-beast. You—could come. With Zim. To the ALMIGHTY Irk. Or the Massive.”

Dib’s eyes widened. “You…want to take me with you?!”

Zim chuckled. “Yes. Why not? Zim can give the Dib whatever he wants to keep himself entertained when Zim is busy. Work. Study. A ship to travel space,” he trailed off, finally pulling his eyes away from Dib. “Dib…does not realize this, but…leaving Earth—you—was the most difficult thing Zim has ever done.”

Dib stared at the Irken in awe. His heart was pounding through his chest. “Zim—I don’t know if I can. I would love to, but, I just don’t know. I was just offered a teaching assistant job from my professor. Next year I’m diving deep into my Astrophysics degree. I have school and work here I need to finish. And Gaz and my friends…”

Zim’s hand tightened for a brief moment on Dib’s wrist before he let go completely, antennae falling back on his head. “Yes, Zim understands the conflict. However, Zim can give Dib those things on Irk. And I guarantee your education will be far better and far more thorough. As well as challenging to Dib’s superior and massive head. The Irken Armada is _amaziiiiiiing_. It will not disappoint.”

“My head isn’t—! …Wait, superior?”

Zim snorted. “Of course. Zim believes the Dib’s head is so gigantic to account for his brain…smarts…thingy.” He waved his arm around loosely.

Dib looked down at his hands, specifically where Zim had been touching him. Things were so…fucked up. Yeah, Zim had decided to cancel his plans for Earth after all but…not because he wanted to. Because duty calls. That’s all. His whole body was still sore from their earlier scuffle, but it was a welcomed pain. A pain that had been missing from his life for five years. Even when they became ‘friends’, they had still fought.

“I…can’t lose you again, Zim. But at the same time, I have people and responsibilities here.” Was Zim really so arrogant as to think Dib would just drop everything and follow him to the ends of the universe?

Zim’s frown deepened, but he nodded. Dib couldn’t tell what was going through his head right now. They were both so different. So much had happened in the last few years. Dib felt like he knew nothing about the Irken anymore. He was more…calm. Yet more vicious. He had grown a little more, too, but from what he understood, it was Earth’s gravity that gave Zim the majority of his current height. Everything was just different, aside from his inflated ego and powerful determination.

“Zim understands. But…do think over my offer. Zim does not want to lose the Dib either.”

The conversation had gotten heavy, and Dib wasn’t sure how to react. What he was supposed to think. One moment they were fighting like old times, Dib wondering how he was going to foil Zim’s plan (that he had initially agreed to help with), then there was drama on Zim’s home planet, then Zim was asking him to join, and they were talking like friends, like—more than friends, maybe. Too much had happened in the last couple weeks, on top of school stress and now this new proposition and his rediscovery of how he felt for Zim and the fact that, after all this time, those feelings had returned.

With that thought articulated, Dib shivered. He looked over at Zim, who was watching him intently and almost…sadly? Dib could see the way his ruby eyes glistened slightly, the way one antenna twitched, the way Zim held himself perfectly still as he waited for a response with far more patience and restraint than he had ever had before. Dib’s heart was still racing, body lurching with the adrenaline and strain on his muscles from their fight and their closeness, his wrist almost burned from the lingering feeling of Zim’s gentle grasp on it, and the way Zim was looking at him…

“Let me think it over? Maybe let me get some advice from Tea and Keo and Gaz. And let me sleep on it. I’ll give you an answer tomorrow?” Dib asked hopefully.

Zim nodded in response, standing up suddenly. “Yes. The Dib will also need rest from being _BESTED_ by the _ALMIGHTY ZIM_. Go and do your thinks, big-headed human. Zim will wait, but do not make me wait for long. I only have so much time,” he glanced over his shoulder devilishly as he made his way to the elevator, finishing, “and so much patience.” Dib offered a weak and forced smile before exiting Zim’s base and whipping out his phone to call Tea.

It rang all of twice before the boy answered. “Tea? It’s Dib. Obviously. Look, where are you and Keo? We need to talk. I need some advice. …Yeah. Okay, I’ll stop by your place now. Uh huh. See you soon.”

With that, Dib hopped in his car and lit a smoke, beelining for Tea’s apartment. He got there in only a few minutes, pulling out the key the insane kid gave him within the first few weeks of knowing each other and hiking his way up the stairs, two at a time, until he reached Tea’s apartment door, which he unlocked as well. Tea and Keo had paused a movie on the TV, waiting for Dib to arrive.

“Hey buddy,” Keo said with a wide, unabashed smile. “What’s going on? You need help with something?”

Dib kicked his shoes off at the door, making his way in and sitting down at the other end of the couch. Keo was seated cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the furthest arm next to Tea’s legs. Tea was curled comfortably against the armrest with a cup of coffee nestled in his hands, golden hair blazing and lion-like and all over the place. He sat up straight once he got a good look at Dib.

“Oh God, Dib, what happened? You look like hell!” The blond yelped.

“Ah, I’m fine. Zim and I got into a bit of a…scuffle. It’s…I have a bit of a dilemma,” Dib started, avoiding his friends’ interested and concerned expressions. “So, the good news is that I was offered a T.A. position in the physics department for next year, which will tack on to my degrees. I’d be doing astrophysics after all. And, Zim is cancelling his plans on Earth.”

“That’s all so exciting!! What’s the bad news?” Keo asked, sitting up straight.

Tea looked confused. “I thought you were on board with Zim’s plan, and that you were going to help him?

“The bad news is that the only reason Zim changed his mind was because he has to go back to his planet to deal with Tallest business. And, I was, Tea, but. The more I thought about it the less on board I felt. I just don’t think I can agree to it, morally, you know?”

“Oh yeah, I can understand that,” the taller of the two boys replied, taking Tea’s coffee out of his hands to take a sip before he continued, “And I guess you’re pretty bent up about Zim leaving again, huh?”

“Yeah, I am. And…the kicker? He asked if I wanted to go with him. Which would be great! But I have this opportunity here, and responsibilities, and you guys, and my family, you know? Zim says I’d have lots to do and learn on Irk, and I’d finally get to travel space for real, but…ugh!” Dib groaned and ran his fingers through his hair, clutching it and pressing down the scythe for a moment.

“I think you should go, honestly,” Keo shrugged, “If Zim thinks that you could do all the same things there as here, then you shouldn’t let us and your family hold you back—especially because your family hardly gives you the time of day half the time. I think it’s an experience you’ll never get to have again. And studying astrophysics while actually travelling space? Sounds like the best case scenario to me.”

“What?” Tea shot up in his seat, turning to face Keo properly. “No, I think it’s a terrible idea. Dib finally got to a place where he was okay, and then out of the blue this Zim kid shows up again, fucks everything up for a while, then decides to leave and tries to convince Dib to go with him? God, it sounds—I dunno! Emotionally manipulative.”

“I don’t think you really understand their relationship, Tea, and I mean, neither do I. But it really sounds _to me_ like a once in a lifetime opportunity. And I don’t think Dib wants Zim to leave him again.”

“You say that as if they’re dating. They aren’t. Dib has great opportunities _here_. And family is important no matter what.”

Dib’s two friends continued to argue as if he weren’t there. He leaned back in his seat and watched them for a moment, the confusion and frustration only growing. His stomach was knotted, a pit growing in his throat. The ‘discussion’ continued for some time before Dib couldn’t take it anymore.

“Enough! Both of you, guys, come on. This isn’t helping,” he groaned, standing up to recollect his things. “I’m going to go home and think it over. Thank you both for the help, it’s good to hear both sides of an argument. I’ll…I dunno. Make a pros and cons list or something.”

Tea cringed visibly in his seat. “Oh, Dib I’m sorry. You know no matter what you decide I’ll support you, even if I don’t agree with it.” Keo nodded in agreement, keeping his mouth shut.

“Thanks, guys. I’ll give it some thought and let you know.” With that, Dib left.

xxxxxx

Dib sat on his bed, music blaring from his computer. He was leaning against the wall, pillows propped up for comfort, writing a pros and cons list of leaving versus staying. He found out over text message that his dad was leaving for a few days, to work on what the man referred to as _‘incredible science’_ , but didn’t say anything more specific. Gaz was at work, and wouldn’t care about his stupid questions, anyway.

After a solid ten minutes of staring at the notebook in his hands, he chucked his pen across the room out of frustration. Standing, he walked over to his desk to grab the pill bottle he had hidden. He popped two quickly, shoving the rest of the bottle in his pocket before walking over to his closet.

He hadn’t actually gotten rid of his paranormal memorabilia, except for Tak’s ship, but it was buried deep in the back of his closet under old clothing and devices he had no use for anymore. Slowly, he began to unbury it, pulling out photographs and drawings of Zim from the box. He began flipping through them—some accurate, some wildly inaccurate—photos that were mostly blurry. He did manage to get a good photo of Zim later down the road, in high skool. Just before the two became friends, during their last big fight. Zim had actually implanted a huge bomb under the city. The only way to turn it off was to get to Zim and disable it remotely. When Dib snuck into the house, and down into the labs, he had fallen and landed right on top of the Irken as he howled with insane laughter, about to push the detonate button. Idiot didn’t realize he’d be blowing himself up, too. They fought for what felt like hours—kicking, punching, scratching, dodging. A mess of limbs and spider legs and badly aimed laser guns. The most violent they’d ever been to one another. The lab was a mess by the end of it, both of them panting and bloody, machines broken all over the place, and finally Zim had Dib completely pinned and the remote in his three-fingered hand. He pushed the button.

Nothing happened, of course, the bomb was defunct because Gir decided to screw around with the innards of it, removing the mechanics and filling it with cupcakes so that when it blew up it would rain cake and frosting. Unfortunately for both Zim and Gir, it just made the device useless. Zim spent about twenty minutes screaming at Gir, Dib still pinned against the wall.

That’s when the _feelings_ started.

_“Well, DIB, you have foiled Zim’s ALMIGHTY PLANS once again, but do not fret, for the AMAZING ZIM will take this opportunity to rip your pathetic monkey skin to shreds so that NEXT TIME THIS PLANET WILL BE MINE!” Zim screamed, slowly inching closer to Dib._

_Sweat and blood dripped down Dib’s forehead. The world was blurry both from his cracked glasses and his split-open head. He had one eye closed tightly. Fortunately, he was still sane enough to respond. “I didn’t foil your plans, Zim, your dumb idiot robot did. You’re so bad at this that I don’t even need to do anything to stop you. You’ll never take over Earth!”_

_“How DARE the DIB-BEAST insult ZIM!” the Irken continued to shout, still inching closer, until they were mere millimeters away from one another. Finally, Zim grinned—that dark, intense grin. Zipper-teeth sharp, glistening in the purple-red light. His PAK legs were digging into his shoulders, drawing blood. Zim pressed his hands to Dib’s chest, pushing him hard into the wall. The alien was small, shorter than Dib and far more lithe, slender even—Dib had started to gain muscle from their fights—but stronger. Faster. More powerful. Heat flushed through Dib’s body and he felt like he was burning from the inside out. Zim’s breath was on his face as he growled, rearing a clawed hand back to slash at him, digging his nails into and across Dib’s chest._

_“You won’t get away with this,” Dib growled back, forcing the thoughts out of his head. He lifted his leg between the two of them, kneeing Zim in the stomach to shove the Irken away, pushing with all of his might to get the alien off of him. It worked, and with that, Dib ran._

The photo was from that moment—he had a camera hidden in his trench coat. Most of the footage was unusable with how much they were moving around, but he’d kept and printed one snapshot. Zim’s mouth upturned into a sick grin, eyes fiery and wild, antennae smoothed back. Skin and eyes and teeth reflecting the sinister lighting of the lab. Dib stared at the photo for a long time, the same feeling filling his belly as he had that night. A fire.

He quickly tossed the photo with the rest of the junk in the box and took a few more pills. The night continued that way, his pros and cons list long forgotten. Looking at photos, recalling memories, taking the pills. Before he knew what had happened, he’d turned his music off to lay down on his bed, had thrown up a couple of times, his head reeling and heart racing. One minute he was feeling fine, the next he was hyperventilating, fading in and out of consciousness.

Eventually, Dib picked himself up from the bed only to shove himself into the corner of his room, nestled in his blankets and pillows on top of the mattress, his whole body locked in place. He was shivering, and freezing, sweat dripping from his brow. He didn’t know how much time passed. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t see properly, and couldn’t move besides the tremors running through him.

xxxxxx

Zim was in his lab, twiddling his fingers anxiously. He had sent Zek and Nui back to Irk to begin getting things back in order, and to deal with Tak. He and the purple, cranky Irken had mostly reconciled their differences once he became Tallest—mostly because she had to obey him now, which gave Zim great happiness—and she had been leading the invasions since Zim’s departure back to Earth. It had been almost two days since Dib left, and he wasn’t sure what the holdup was, but he didn’t particularly feel like pushing the human into a decision he wasn’t ready to make.

The more he thought it over, the more he knew Dib was right to not want his planet changed, nor his parent-unit; the horrible beast-creature, he gave Zim the shiveries. And Zim didn’t want to take him away from his new friends, or his new opportunities here, but he was completely, fully one-hundred-percent-positive that Dib could do much better for himself on Irk. And any Irken to fuck with the human would have their PAK’s forcibly removed and left to suffer. Lost in thought, his computer had to get his attention more than once.

**CAUTION. PRESENCE AT FRONT ENTRANCE. * _AHEM_ *. CAUTION. PRESENCE AT FRONT ENTRANCE. HELLOOOO?**

Zim snapped out of it, growling. “Bring up Camera One.” On screen, Dib’s tiny blond friend was pounding at the door, shouting something. The other one was hiding behind the fence, eyeing the moving gnomes anxiously. “What on Irk are those filthy human friends of the Dib’s doing here? At ZIM’s base?” he growled, standing and heading to the elevator. “Computer, bring me to the main floor. DISABLE THE GNOMES. Temporarily.”

**SURE, WHATEVER.**

The elevator whirred into motion, and within seconds Zim had reached the main floor of his base, waltzing through the livingroom to yank open the front door, Tea falling on his face at Zim’s feet. He hadn’t put on his disguise, he realized with a wave of anxiety, but decided that the human friends of Dib’s wouldn’t be much bothered.

The human scrambled to stand, jumping back to give Zim space. “I’m sorry to bother you Mr. Alien but—we didn’t know what your phone number was, or if you had one, or how to get a hold of you, and normally we wouldn’t come by and forcibly introduce ourselves without Dib because honestly the idea of aliens is a little scary to me and—”

“Tea, get to the point!” Keo shouted from behind the fence. He could see Zim starting to bristle and growl. How dare they interrupt THE ALMIGHTY TALLEST’S thinkies.

“Oh! Is Dib here?” Zim shook his head and was about to speak, but Tea rudely interrupted. “Right. Well, Dib didn’t go to campus today. He never misses his classes, and we haven’t been able to get a hold of him since we saw him the other night. And we knocked at his door but nobody answered and we’re not sure what’s going on so—”

Without another comment, Zim was shoving Tea out of his house and slamming the door. He dragged the human to the curb to join the other one, as the gnomes would begin working again soon and he didn’t want to be scolded for killing the Dib’s friends. Without a word, he left the two on the sidewalk and ran off as fast as he could to Dib’s house. Along the way, he checked his communicator—he didn’t receive much information, but the device did record Dib’s pulse and blood pressure. Both were elevated.

What had the stupid, big-headed human gotten himself into? If his friends were worried enough to show up at Zim’s door, then this must be particularly unusual behaviour. New to Zim, and bothersome.

In under two minutes, he found himself below Dib’s window. The light was out, but he could hear jagged breathing. Scaling the wall and listening carefully, he could tell the Dib sounded under stress of some kind. Sick, perhaps? Zim forced the window open and let himself in.

The room smelled of puke and sickly sweetness. Dib was on the bed, pressed into the corner against both walls. He didn’t even see Zim enter. He was clutching his chest, gasping for air, and shaking and twitching horribly. There was vomit on the floor, and small pinkish pills littered on the floor both in and around the puke, and a few on the bed as well. What the—

Zim hurried to the human, sticking his tongue out to increase his senses even more. It was obviously some kind of drug, that much he could tell. He’d have to get Dib to the lab. He gently grasped Dib’s face, looking into his eyes. Dib looked at him, but didn’t see him. His pupils were wildly dilated. “Dib? Zim is taking you to his base. It will be okay.”

The Irken knew he looked like a fool carrying Dib bridal-style, but he didn’t care. He hurried out of Dib’s room with the human and down the stairs, knowing they both couldn’t fit through the window. He ran almost as fast back to his base, Dib’s weight only slowing him down slightly. He passed the two humans, still there and waiting. He didn’t let them in, the door slamming shut behind him as he hurried down to the lab.

He quickly, but gingerly, laid Dib down on a table, similar to that of a hospital bed. “Computer, assess vitals,” Zim snapped, once again attempting to get Dib’s attention by grasping his jaw and forcing the human to look at him. He had begun gurgling. “Dib. Zim is going to analyze you and flush your system. Stupid human…” he murmured, letting the computer do its analysis as he hooked up a saline drip to Dib and cleaned him up. He also cut off Dib’s disgusting shirt. “You will be okay. You _will_ be okay,” Zim muttered, mostly to calm himself. He found himself shaking anxiously, glancing back and forth between Dib and the monitor.

**ANALYSIS COMPLETE. YIKES.**

He looked to his computer screen for answers.

“Alpha‑methylphenethylamine…? Amphetamines?” Zim murmured. He had remembered their drug education classes in high skool. He thought there might be some way to utilize hard drugs to take over Earth, considering their highly addictive nature, but nixed the idea realizing that the effects were wildly unpredictable. Stupid human got himself addicted to narcotics?? Zim snarled to himself, in anger, annoyance, and fear.

He connected the necessary devices to Dib, and stuck a soft plastic bar—a bite block—into Dib’s mouth to keep him from biting his tongue. He turned away—for a second—and when he turned back Dib had begun to have a seizure. Zim growled and tilted the boy onto his side, holding him firmly but comfortably, ensuring he didn’t crack his head back or against the table and tugging his glasses off. Stupid, stupid, stupid human.

Once the seizure ended—after what felt like an eternity but was only three minutes and some seconds long—Zim eased Dib back onto his back. He was now completely unconscious. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Zim hooked up a few other devices to Dib to monitor his vitals and begin properly flushing the drugs from his system, which should, hopefully, deal with some of the addiction as well—if only he could do the same to the human’s brain. Zim was extraordinarily thankful for his Irken technology. If this were five years ago, he’d have to take Dib to the hospital. However, with his fixed PAK and access to correctly functioning supplies, he knew that Irken healthcare and tools were far more useful and advanced than human’s. There was nothing he could do, now, but wait—shaking, growling, a mix of anger and fear pumping through him. He sat down next to Dib to wait.

Now that the human was stable, Zim could take some time to examine the strange artwork covering his upper body. He recalled the Irken logo on Dib’s shoulder blade, and wanted to take a look again, but didn’t want to move the boy, so he settled for examining what was on the front. They were like sleeves of artwork, each one different but connected. On Dib’s right arm was the paranormal—a couple ghosts, a vampire, bigfoot. Some odd alien figure that Zim didn’t recognize as being something real. He knew it connected with the logo on his back. All the way down to the human’s hand, pictures of the strange and bizarre creatures, cryptids Zim remembered them called, the Loch Ness monster’s long body trailing from his forearm down to his middle finger, like a wrap. Between it all, connecting all the images together, was space—not blank space, but the universe. Stars and galaxies and planets interlaced and interweaving together. On his left arm was a mass of scientific equations and calculations, and visualizations of the natural and scientific. The chemical makeup of serotonin and dopamine. The birds of Darwin’s theory of evolution. The outline of the bones in his forearm and hand, fading into nothing on the fingers. A DNA helix trailing down the length of his upper arm. Again, all of it was connected with space, going across his chest and bringing the two pieces together smoothly just below his collarbone. Now, Zim could see dark hair on his chest and abdomen, slipping beneath the waistband of his jeans. All the scars littering his body—ones he’s never seen, but knew were from their various fights. Zim was always rougher—drawing blood where he could, bruising; he knew he’d broken a rib or two of Dib’s, and a couple fingers, too. Puncture marks in his shoulders from when he had Dib pinned to the wall, covered by tattoos but still visible beneath the ink. Three large claw marks across Dib’s chest, over where he knew the heart to be.

Zim shivered and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with his hands. He sat like this for a few moments, before closing his eyes and slowly drifting into an anxious and uncomfortable sleep.


	12. Recovery

Dib’s eyes opened slowly. He felt sore, groggy, and slightly nauseous, and the world was blurry. Glasses. Needed glasses. And water, holy fuck was his mouth dry, the back of his throat sticking together. He groaned, smacking his tongue in his mouth and reaching to the side for his glasses, when his hand hit something soft, and none too gently.

“Ghk! What on—oh! Dib-human, you are awake. Good,” Zim was muttering, instantly moving and placing Dib’s glasses on his face, rushing from machine to machine to make sure that he was okay.

“God, I feel like I’ve slept for a week, where—why are you—” Dib rubbed his face and slowly sat up, eyeing the machines hooked up to him and the drip in his arm. “Uh. Zim?”

Zim rolled his eyes and cast Dib a dismissive glare. “You have been out for almost two days. You overdosed on _amphetamines_. Your friends came to Zim to find you, and I’ve been flushing your system. Do not fret, I called them yesterday to let them know you were recovering. Ever plan on telling Zim about this little addiction of yours?”

Dib stared at Zim in silent shock as Zim nodded approvingly to the machines, beginning to disconnect them. “I don’t…know what to say,” he stammered out eventually, “I mean…thank you. I’m sorry. It’s just—”

Zim rolled his eyes as he walked back to the table, leaning against it by Dib’s hip. “Excuses are not necessary, Dib-human,” he murmured, reaching up slowly to caress Dib’s face, looking through the glasses into Dib’s eyes. Dib felt his tension ease, and slowly, he raised his own hand and placed it on Zim’s gloved one. “How is the Dib feeling?” Zim asked, and when he did, his voice was soft, quiet, and reassuring.

“I feel great actually,” Dib said awkwardly, laughing slightly and gently taking Zim’s hand off his face, but holding it in his lap. “I don’t think I’ve felt this good waking up in a long time.”

“Substance abuse will do that,” Zim shrugged, sitting back down in his chair next to Dib. “How long?”

“A few years, I guess,” Dib muttered, tearing his eyes away from the Irken while he spoke. He didn’t want to make eye contact with Zim while talking about this. He didn’t much want to talk about it at all—but he knew that there was really no other option; Zim wouldn’t let this go now that he knew. “It helped get me through the day, you know? It made things easier, helped me focus, and then I just—needed more. Any time things got hard, there they were, easy as pie to find and take and feel better. Party drug, too, so. Kept everything light and fun.”

Zim nodded slowly as Dib spoke. “It is a universal issue, Zim supposes. Irkens fall under large amounts of pressure, especially invaders. Many of them do turn to substances. I, however, think it is _horrendously stoopid_.”

Dib let out a small chuckle, absentmindedly rubbing his arm. “Yeah. Well, I guess I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten. And with everything that’s been happening... I don’t know.”

Zim frowned.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean—you. Coming back. Well, leaving at first. Getting sent to the Crazy House for Boys. Knowing that you were _real_ and _here_ and so much a part of my life, part of what made me, _me_. My life was defined by you, by fighting you, then by being something like friends with you. Which, God, was unhealthy as hell for a kid growing up but was all I had aside from Gaz. And then you were gone, wiped from everyone else, and I didn’t know what to do with myself when I got out of the loonie bin.” Instinctively, Dib rubbed his arms. “So I started drinking and partying just after I got into college. I knew myself—I knew I could get all of my work done and excel while still blocking out the world, you know? I had that power now, to be and do anything I wanted. I had a car, had some cash, and people didn’t pay attention to me like they did before college. It was easy, and it’s the weak way out, I know that. But… I don’t have the strength to be strong anymore.”

Zim tightened his grip on Dib’s hand. “Dib, Zim understands. I wish… things were different. But I _do_ get it, and I—I’m sorry for being part of why you started.”

“Don’t blame yourself. This is all on me, my failures. And the other night—I guess—well. With being offered that T.A. position and you offering to take me with you, and not knowing what to do I… panicked. I was…” Dib’s face reddened and he looked away.

“Dib…?”

“I was going through my old paranormal stuff. I still have some of it in a box in the corner of my closet. I started, I dunno. Remembering you, I guess, and remembering our time together. Remembering…” Dib trailed off, slowly moving closer to Zim, his face flushed. He could feel himself burning, embarrassed and hoping that he wasn’t completely wrong. He didn’t expect to do this, but Zim just saved his life, he was feeling wonderful, and he thought he knew…

Zim blinked in confusion at Dib, so in response, Dib raised his hand to hold Zim’s face gently, closing his eyes behind his glasses so he didn’t have to watch Zim pull away when he inevitably did. Finally, after the longest seconds of his life, his mouth met Zim’s. He could tell the Irken was startled, but he was startled even more when Zim kissed him back, a clawed hand snaking up to clutch Dib’s hair. As nice as this was, Dib was getting uncomfortable leaning down so much.

Zim, seeming to sense Dib’s discomfort, slowly stood, still kissing Dib hotly, using his free hand to push Dib back down to the bed. Dib’s face flushed further, but he still refused to open his eyes—he must be dreaming. He has to be.

Suddenly, Zim moved away from Dib, and the human unconsciously let out a tiny wail. In response, Zim growled, his mouth finding its way to Dib’s jaw and throat.

 _Fuck_. Things were progressing faster than he’d expected. He was still shirtless, and Zim’s mouth and teeth were finding all the best spots on his exposed skin, eliciting sharp and breathy sounds from Dib’s throat.

“Zim—” Dib growled, holding tightly onto the Irken’s shoulders.

Sensing the tension in Dib’s voice and body, Zim pulled back to stare down at the human, breathing heavily. “Dib?”

“Just—fast. Kinda fast,” Dib murmured, his hand gentle again on Zim’s face. The Irken was now straddling him on the table, much like when they fought the other day, but with a much different atmosphere.

“Oh! Yes. Zim is—I’m sorry,” Zim moved away from Dib, slowly standing beside the table as Dib sat up.

“Not that it wasn’t nice…” Dib muttered, running a hand awkwardly through his hair and kicking his feet back and forth. “I didn’t expect you to kiss me back. Doesn’t seem like… an Irken thing, yanno?”

Zim chuckled, taking Dib’s hand again. “It isn’t. Irkens do not _kiss_ , although they do a great deal many other things. However, Zim knows about kissing from spending so long on your planet. And Zim has… wanted to.”

“How long?” Dib asked quietly, still not meeting the Irken’s eyes.

“Years. And the Dib?”

“…me too,” he murmured, shifting uncomfortably. Their quick, hot makeout session made him… ‘tense’, for lack of a better word.

Zim shifted Dib by the jaw with his clawed hand, forcing the human to make eye contact with him. “May Zim kiss the Dib again?”

Dib nodded slowly, watching this time as Zim leaned into him, the Irken’s mouth soft on his own dry, chapped lips. This time, Zim kissed him much more softly, still taking control, but being gentle. Slow, like they were preteens learning what it was for the first time.

Not that Dib had kissed anyone else, anyway. And obviously, neither had Zim. But they were learning together—that’s what mattered.

In that moment, recovered from an overdose, finally expressing something he’d been feeling for so long, and having it be reciprocated, Dib knew what he wanted to do. Slowly, he pushed Zim away with an extra peck to his cheek.

“I’ll go with you to Irk.”

It was the first time he had seen Zim’s eyes light up so brightly, with nothing clouding them. Pure joy—nothing else. No bitterness, jealousy, envy, greed, rage, or mockery. Just joy.

“Is the Dib certain? It will be a long trip, and we will probably not return in time for Dib’s next degree to begin. And Zim will be quite busy ruling and dealing with the control brains and escaped prisoner situation.”

“Yes. I’m sure. I’m very, one hundred percent, sure. Where better to learn about astronomy and astrophysics and space than when _travelling space_. I’ve only been out there a few times, and not very far. Always with, or fighting, you. Tak’s horrible ship…” he chuckled.

Zim slowly leaned forward, repeating Dib’s action and kissing him on the cheek. Dib flushed. “Very well. Zim is glad you will be joining me. Do not fret—we can keep you in touch with your family and your friends. Zim would not dare cut the Dib off from them.”

“I didn’t think you would, Zim. And… I know it wasn’t your choice to give up your plans for Earth but, thank you. I’m glad.”

Zim shook his head. “No. Zim made the wrong decision. How could Zim think to mess with and alter the planet that the Dib calls home? I would never allow you to do the same to Irk. Zim should not have assumed.”

“Oh.”

“If the Dib is to come with Zim to Irk, he must promise Zim something first,” the Irken stated, standing straight and becoming serious as he pulled away and turned his back to Dib.

“What’s that?”

“No drugs. And if the Dib has a relapse… come to Zim. I will help you, any way I know how. But you are _better than this_ ,” Zim stated, turning to Dib again for emphasis, determination in his face. “You are smarter and stronger than you allow yourself credit for. And I will not have that ginormous head going to waste by rotting away in alcohol and nicotine and amphetamines.”

Dib’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh. Okay, I’ll do my best. But I’m not quitting everything cold-turkey, are you crazy?”

Zim grinned. “Yes.”

“Sadist,” Dib laughed.

“Masochist,” Zim retorted, taking an intimidating step toward Dib, still smirking, fanged, the darkness returning to his eyes. The humour left Dib’s face the moment Zim stepped toward him.

“Prove it.” Dib leaned back slightly, staring at Zim with as similar an expression as he could muster, challenging.

 _“Make me,”_ Zim growled, throat rumbling next to Dib’s ear, causing a shiver to shoot down his body. He pulled away too quickly, too flushed, too embarrassed, and way too turned on.

Zim chuckled, taking a step back and caressing Dib’s hand. “Slow, yes?”

“Please,” Dib laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “God, I guess I should go home—talk to Gaz and Dad. Tea and Keo, let everyone know I’m okay and that I’ll be going away for a while. Pack. That kind of thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter this time around. Hope you enjoyed! It's been a long time since I've written anything saucy, so... that's all I'm gonna say about that.


	13. Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made some edits to this chapter and chapter 14. Working on 15, and realized some lines aren't connecting quite right. Nothing major, just making sure everything makes sense and the plot is flowing smoothly. Sentences here and there. Enjoy everyone!

Dib knew what he needed to do next. As he left Zim’s place—by foot, as Zim had taken him there, he first headed home so he could tell his family and collect his things. He’d have to wrap up his degree first, that much was for sure. On his way out, Zim mentioned he was more than welcome to stay there as they prepared for the long journey through space first to the Massive, then to Irk itself. Dib figured it’d be a good idea. Get them used to each other again. There was so much that needed to be worked out between them.

Overall, however, Dib was more than excited—finally able to travel space, and learn about it while out there. Really get hands-on. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning during his walk home, despite the spring rain, and besides, it made the world smell nice and feel refreshed. His mind, for the first time in years, he thought, was clear.

Arriving home, Dib realized he’d not had his keys on him. With a slight roll of his eyes, he tried the doorknob, not completely surprised that it came open at the action. He walked like he was floating, sliding the door shut behind himself with his boot. Things felt—different.

“Where’ve you been, knucklehead?” a feminine growl sounded from the livingroom couch.

“Zim’s. We’ve been… working something out.”

“I knew he’d be back, you know,” Gaz turned to look at Dib with a disinterested expression on her face, playing her Game Slave without much looking at the screen.

Dib snickered. “Yeah, I’m sure you did. So, you’ve remembered him this whole time?”

“Duh. Think I’d let that loser near my brain? You’re an idiot.” She lowered herself back into the couch, staring into her screen.

Dib made his way over to the couch, leaning over the back to stare at the screen over her shoulder, knowing it’d make his younger sister uncomfortable. “I’m going to leave with him once I’ve finished my degree. I’m not going to graduation.”

“Dad’s gonna be pissed.”

“I know. I’ll miss you when I’m gone, but I’ll be back.”

“Humph. Whatever. Good luck telling Dad though.”

“Well, all he has to know is that I’ll be leaving to do ‘ _practical science’_ ,” he mimicked his father’s voice as he spoke, chuckling the whole time. “I think he’ll be glad for that at least. He doesn’t need to know it’s with an alien.”

“True.” Gaz didn’t give Dib much else, and he knew she wouldn’t get emotional.

“Hey, when I’m gone, do you want the car? I don’t have much use for it where I’m going.”

“Duh I want the car,” Gaz snapped back, holding her hand out, wanting, behind herself, still playing her Game Slave one-handed. Dib rolled his eyes, turning on his heel to hurry upstairs and grab his keys, running them back down to her. He dropped them into her hand.

“There. It’s yours now. All the paperwork is in the glove box if you need it, insurance and shit. I’m gonna go get stuff ready, I think I’ll stay at Zim’s until my schoolwork is done.”

“Whatever.”

With the conversation so obviously over, Dib made his way back upstairs, more slowly this time. Arriving in his room, he finally had a second to assess the situation. It was disgusting in here, to say the least. He didn’t realize how bad things had gotten—the smell of sweat and vomit permeated the room. He was surprised Gaz didn’t notice and do something about it.

The first thing Dib did was open the window to let some air circulation carry the smell out. Then he grabbed cleaning supplies from the bathroom, and, dry-heaving the whole time, cleaned out the carpet and the mattress. _‘Jesus Christ, Dib. What did you get yourself into?’_ he thought to himself as he made his way downstairs with all the laundry in his room—it all stunk now, especially the bedding—and began his laundry.

He sat on one of the chairs, as he and Zim had done once before. He’d left his phone upstairs, but it was kind of nice, being in the quiet and cool room without noise, aside from the gentle hum of the washer and the sloshing of the clothing in the machine. He lost himself in thought, recalling earlier today with Zim’s mouth finally on his own, kissing him. How different it felt than what he imagined it would, now that he was finally admitting to imagining it. He didn’t know if that was just how it was, or if it was because Zim was an alien, or what, but in any case, it was nice.

So many fights and scuffles from their youth, he now realized a lot of it—at least on his end—must have been sexual tension manifesting itself in violence, in the only way he knew how to express the way he was feeling, the only way he’d allow himself to think of Zim. Aggressive, like an enemy, even when they considered each other ‘friends’.

The number of times Zim had him pinned down, snarling two inches in front of him, cackling with insanity, something inhuman that Dib felt immensely attracted to before he knew what it was. Thinking about it now didn’t so much surprise Dib, but rather, explained a lot.

‘ _So, I’m falling for an alien. What on Earth does that say about_ me _and_ my _mental state?’_ He chuckled to himself. Falling for him, huh? It felt out of place, almost. Like falling in love wasn’t the right phrase, wasn’t the right word, wasn’t the right feeling. Like it didn’t include any of the viciousness or violence of their encounters, it was too soft for whatever it was Zim and Dib always had. It had always been brutal and, in a way, cruel. They wanted to hurt each other.

Maybe themselves? Punishment, maybe, for things they thought they deserved—the cruel ignorance and verbal abuse and mockery from his father, from children at school. The insults. The feeling of never being enough. Maybe in a way, Dib thought he deserved it, just as much, maybe Zim thought he deserved to be punished for his failures as an Invader, for being in some way damaged compared to the others. They took it out on each other, waiting for retribution.

Sadomasochism, in any case. Dib chuckled. It was kind of sick, wasn’t it? Whatever they had always crossed boundaries, crossed lines, was always a little odd and a little strange and a little _not right_ , but it was theirs, and it belonged to them.

He’d have to have a conversation with Zim about this at some point, he knew that much. But words couldn’t really articulate how he felt, and he was sure that this was unusual for Irkens. He wondered if Zim was going against some evolutionary response, or against some coding in his PAK, or against the control brains. He’d have to, if he planned on destroying them. But then, he didn’t know much about Irken culture outside of Invading and the Tallests, who he remembered now only vaguely as stupid and cruel. He hoped that, in however Zim was ruling, it wasn’t like them. He hoped Zim would be a good ruler but, as he thought about it, he didn’t know much at all about Zim anymore.

He used to know everything, but Zim didn’t know much about Dib, anymore, either.

The cycle stopped, and Dib stood to switch the laundry into the dryer—extra dryer sheet just in case, to keep the smell _really_ out, and threw the next load into the wash. Clean everything, sanitize, heat. Jesus, he almost couldn’t believe what he’d done to himself.

It was the realization, he thought, about his feelings for Zim. About how hard it was that the alien had left him, and had left him with nothing. How he returned, and everything came crashing back like dropping a piano on someone’s head in a cartoon, crushing them flat, comically, with a cacophony of breaking keys and strings. No waves—just a brick wall of emotion flooding back. Dib remembered losing himself in the memory of Zim, and in the return of him, and in the newness of him. It was too much, and like how he always dealt with ‘too much’, he gave himself too much. Took too much.

Problem is, when you counteract too much with too much, you’re still… too much. And this time it went too far, he supposed, and he’d be regretting it.

At the same time, thinking of Zim like this, thinking of school and moving and travelling space and losing the closeness to his friends and Gaz, and even his father, all he wanted was a drink and a cigarette and a few pills to get him through—but he restrained himself. Rather than think about how he _felt_ about Zim (that could wait, for now. Slow, right?), he went upstairs to go out for a smoke, only to see his father arriving home.

“Oh, hey Dad. Been a while. How’s work?” Dib asked casually, leaning against the door frame.

His father glanced over at Dib, staring at him incredulously as if he had forgotten he even had a son. All too common. Dib had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes up past the ceiling. “Oh! Son! I haven’t seen you in a while. How are your classes?”

“Good. I’m almost done, I’ll probably graduate with high honours if everything goes well in my thesis. But—I have some news.”

“News?” his father asked, making his way absently into the kitchen as he shouted, “good evening, Gaz!” she ‘harumphed’ in response.

“Yeah. I’m uh, I’m moving. Giving the car to Gaz, if that’s cool with you. I’m gonna, uh, study astrophysics. Can’t do that here, I don’t think. Was looking at the program and uh, it doesn’t seem very good. Not up to your standards, anyhow. Figured I could do better—it’s got a practical component.” Dib rambled slightly, getting embarrassed. He wasn’t sure how much his father would press, how much he’d want to know—where, when, how, et cetera.

“Practical component? In astrophysics? Hm. Well, as long as you’re doing REAL SCIENCE I guess I can’t be too unhappy about that. I would prefer you get your masters and PhD right away,” he muttered, getting started on making dinner.

“Oh, just make enough for you and Gaz. I’m gonna go out, tell Tea and Keo I’m moving. Look, yeah, I know I should get the rest of my degrees, but I really think doing something practical in between will be good. I can always come back and get further degrees at any point. I might not have a doctorate, but I’ll be working in real labs and studying space and the planets, doing astronomy with my knowledge of theoretical and observational physics—” Dib took a breath, shaking his head and rubbing his temple. “Look, I know it isn’t what you preferred for me. I know it isn’t what you had planned for my life. But it is _my life_ in any case, so just be glad I’m doing this instead of chasing down vampires and bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster.”

Professor Membrane froze, tensing his shoulders as Dib spoke. “Yes… I… suppose I can be glad of that, Son. As long as you are happy, and are practicing _real science_ , then… do what you need to do.” He turned around, facing Dib with an oddly soft expression. “Will you say goodbye before you leave?”

Dib frowned. “Oh. Of course, Dad. I’ve gotta finish my degree and pack anyway. I’ll be home. And I’ll give the house a video call once in a while to check in. Of course.”

Professor Membrane nodded. “Yes… good. I—realize I am not always the most observant when it comes to you, son. Mostly I—wanted you to understand how difficult the world can be, especially when you are interested in such… strange things. It would have been easier for you to study practical, real science at a young age, rather than being obsessed with that nonsense. It made your childhood so difficult.”

“Not that you were much there to teach me, anyway,” Dib muttered, looking away, out to Gaz on the couch. She didn’t move or speak. “I didn’t really get much support from you either way, no matter what I did. Even when I took a break from the paranormal. And then I got older, and I gave it up. And you still weren’t around. All I got were lectures on studying hard, and why did I get tattoos, and why did I get piercings, and why did I start smoking, and how I won’t get a job in a scientific field… if you were home at all.”

His father watched silently. Slowly, he tugged his goggles off and rubbed his eyes. In this moment, he looked weak. Old. “I haven’t been much of a father to you. I just… wanted great things for you. I wanted it in the wrong way.”

Dib stared at his father in shock and awe. “Dad… I mean, I guess I get it. I always wished you were around more, though. You preached science but never offered to teach me. I made it where I am without you, you know,” he muttered, tugging his sweater closer around himself as a safety net. “I don’t think I can have this conversation right now, Dad. I’m gonna get my stuff together, I’ll be staying with Zim for a while.”

Professor Membrane nodded, tugging his goggles back on and glancing away. “Hmm. That name sounds familiar, but I can’t place where from. Is Zim a friend from school?”

Dib shrugged. “Yeah. I’ll come say goodbye before we leave.” He immediately turned on his heel, needing to escape the tension permeating the Membrane household. He was surprised it didn’t turn into more of a fight—as he got older, his father’s ignorance of him grew, as did their resentment for one another. He knew if they kept speaking now, it _would_ become a fight. He didn’t have the energy for that, not after everything that’s happened, and so quickly. At least his father apologized…

He made his way to Tea’s place, calling him on the way to check if he and Keo were both over. He’d explain the situation to them, his decision, and let them know he was okay. That it wouldn’t be permanent. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away from his home planet forever. He knew he’d have a lot of explaining to do, and he knew he’d get a lecture from them. They knew about the drugs sometimes, sure, but nothing like this had happened before. He usually had more control. And he knew Tea wouldn’t be very pleased about his departure.

Although, he the more he thought about it, the more intimidated he felt about leaving Earth. Being in space, travelling, and studying astronomy and, of course, spending time with Zim. However, spending time with Zim, as Tallest, in his element and on his planet, he felt as though he would fit in even less than he did here on Earth, when he was still a kid. He felt conflicted.

xxxxx

Dib left his friend’s place feeling both better and worse. He mostly felt overwhelmed, like everything was all too much. He was disappointed with himself, also—Tea did a lot of yelling, saying how worried he’d been, and Keo sat in silent disappointment. There was no way he could do that to them again, and he felt ashamed that he had made his friends feel that way.

Anyway, there was still so much to do. He still had his thesis to finish—a research paper for his combined majors and a presentation. He rubbed his temples as he walked, having given the keys to Gaz sooner than he should have, absently heading in the direction of Zim’s rather than home,. Before he knew it, he had arrived at the porch, knowing it’d be best he stayed there, anyway. The gnomes didn’t give him the time of day anymore—Zim must have updated their programming. He rang the doorbell, and waited.


	14. Leading

Zim was absently working in his lab—having just finished speaking with Tak about Impending Doom 3’s progress, he was mainly going through statistical concerns and corresponding with Zek and Nui who were now aboard the massive, ensuring everything was running as smoothly as possible, considering prisoner 1567’s escape and the _stoopid_ control brains attempting to take over. He felt stressed and exhausted. He squinted his eyes shut for a moment, rubbing his temples, before continuing his work—

However, he was quickly interrupted upon noticing from his camera, a simple glance at the view screen, a certain Dib standing at his front door and reaching up to knock. Zim stood, and made his way to the elevator as his computer alerted him, too late, to the human’s presence.

**CAUTION. PRESENCE AT FRONT DOOR.**

“Got it,” Zim scoffed, crossing his arms high over his chest as he waited to arrive on the main floor. When he did, he walked quickly to the front door and swung it open, blinking at Dib. He wasn’t expecting the human today, so his presence was somewhat of a surprise.

“Hey Zim—oh. Everything alright?” Dib asked, adjusting himself in his hoodie. Zim looked the human up and down—his outfit was fairly plain today, compared to usual: simple black jeans and boots, a black hoodie with a grey splatter on the left breast, silver zipper. He could see from his slight reflection in the human’s glasses that he did look a little haggard—a frustrated expression on his face, and he could feel his left antenna twitching.

“Dib-beast, Zim was not expecting you so soon!” The Irken decided to hide his stress as much as he could, tugging Dib by the sleeve into his house and shutting the door.

“Ah, yeah. I got everything I needed to done for now, sorry if you’re busy. I just didn’t want to go home, and since you offered for me to stay...”

“Yes, yes, Zim is very busy right now but HE SUPPOSES he can entertain the Dib!” Zim turned on his heel, grabbing a giggling Gir from the couch by the singular antenna in his head. “GIR! Go entertain yourself somewhere else, with your mooses and your piggies and your cupcakes.”

“YES, MY MASTER,” Gir started, glowing red momentarily before giggle-squealing and leaping out of Zim’s hold, running toward the toilet elevator and flushing himself, gurgling, “I’M GONNA PLAY HIDE AND SEEK WITH MISTER PIGGY!”

Dib’s soft laugh erupted from over Zim’s shoulder. “I’m surprised you kept Gir,” he said, standing closely behind Zim. The Irken could feel Dib’s breat on his skin. He took a step away.

“Zim has developed an… affection for him.” The said absently, “Dib! Zim must call Irk and deal with his AMAZING RULING. Hush your big head,” before snapping to the computer, “COMPUTER. Contact Shira, on Irk.”

**OKAY. FINE.**

Zim’s antennae twitched as Dib moved away from him quietly, making himself comfortable on the couch, tugging a pillow into his lap and hugging it. Zim attempted to ignore the human for now—his work was far too important at the moment. He wished they could leave immediately; there was so much to do, and it was difficult via correspondence from so far away.

“My Tallest,” sounded from the TV as it lit up, a male Irken with deep red eyes appearing on screen. “How may I assist you?”

“You may tell Zim precisely WHY and HOW the control brains think they can get away with overthrowing my rule. They are _machines_ and it is in our _law_ that only an _Irken_ can act as Tallest of Irk,” Zim snarled, taking a menacing step toward the television.

“My… Tallest! They are probably listening,” Shira whispered in response, glancing from side to side.

“I do not care,” Zim growled. “They can either continue to disobey me and ignore Irken law and tradition, or I can disconnect them when I return,” he shrugged, taking a step back casually. Shira looked shocked, and slightly scared. Yes. Exactly what Zim wanted.

“Yes, my Tallest. They think… you are weak. Unfit to rule. Too… kind and forgiving. I doubt they wish to go against our laws and traditions—as they are the ones who created and enforce them, mainly. However, I believe they are using prisoner 1567 to… rally against you. Only you, Tara and Mira, and the Control Brains should be able to breach the security of Capital Vault 47-B.”

Zim growled again. He could feel his shoulders tense, and his antennae slick back against his head. “I should have had him executed when I captured him. Of course they think he should rule in Zim’s stead. UNTRUE! I will deal with them and the prisoner upon arrival to Irk. Send out a warning, Shira, across the galaxy, and to any Invader currently on duty. Any Irken or associated race caught aiding the prisoner or the control brains will be executed. _Personally_ , and _publicly_. Heighten security, have more smeets sent into training if you must.”

Shira looked ready to vomit out of fear. “Yes, my Tallest. As you wish.” The screen went black.

When Zim turned around, he was surprised to catch Dib staring at him in awe. “You… rule with an iron fist, huh…?”

“Yes. It is the Irken way. However, as you may not know or understand, I rule far more fairly than the previous Tallests, late Red and Purple. Some do not like change, however… understandable, but they must see that Zim is now their ruler. Accept, and follow, or be punished with imprisonment or death.” He shrugged. It was simple to him. He must ensure that his people both respected and feared him. “If I catch Dexan, he will be given the opportunity to fight me for the title of Tallest.”

“To… the death?” Dib asked softly.

“Of course.”

“I don’t like that.”

“Well, Dib, it is his right.”

“No—I don’t… want you to die.”

Zim frowned. Instead of responding right away, he made his way to the couch to join the human, and to gently take his hand in his own gloved one. He could feel the calluses on Dib’s skin through his gloves. “I see. Unfortunately, Dib, it is still his right, just as it was mine.”

“Brutal race, huh?” Dib asked, frowning at Zim.

“Indeed,” Zim shrugged, reaching into one of the drawers at the side table and taking out a data pad. He knew Dib would never understand—just as he, himself, would not understand humans. Even kissing Dib; it felt so primitive, but he could see the appeal. It was animalistic in a way that was so different and outside of Irken nature.

Zim muddled around on the device, letting Dib watch and process in silence. He knew Dib could read Irken somewhat fluently… he smirked when an idea crossed his mind.

“Dib-beast. Read this passage aloud for Zim.” He pointed to the screen and moved it so that the human could see.

“Huh? Oh. Uh, okay. I think it says, ‘Article number 76, caption’—”

“No. In Irken.” Zim could feel Dib’s frown. “WELL, Dib-human, it is time you _truly_ learned our language!”

“I guess I should if I’ll be on your planet for a while, huh?” he laughed. Zim was always surprised how much he enjoyed Dib’s laugh.

“Indeed. Now speak!” He shoved the data pad closer to Dib’s face. Dib began reading—his pronunciation wasn’t _completely_ horrible. The human had heard him speaking in Irken plenty of times, or swearing (for English didn’t quite have the right words). Dib spoke carefully and nervously, sometimes choppy, and a few completely wrong—

Zim promptly burst out laughing.

“What?!”

“The Dib just said, ‘as assessed by the _atomic moose_ ’ instead of ‘the galactic federation’. The image! It pleases Ziiiiim.” When he looked up, Dib was laughing as well, but he was flush with embarrassment. _Hmmmm._

Zim raised a hand to Dib’s cheek after carefully removing his gloves. _Warm_. Slowly, he found himself pulling himself into Dib’s lap, nestling into the human. Yes. This will do nicely.

Dib let out a startled laugh and gingerly wrapped his arms around Zim, tugging away the data pad and placing it in the now empty space on the couch, his chin leaning onto Zim’s head. Zim was acutely aware of his antennae—but he honestly wasn’t bothered by the closeness.

“Zim, tell me about what happened when you left.”

The Irken scowled in his comfort. “Zim killed the Tallests and took their place. The end.”

“I want to know everything.”

“Dib-stink, Zim promises you do not want to know the gory details.”

“Yes, Zim, I do. I need to hear it—everything.”

Zim sighed heavily. “Fine. Zim arrived on the Massive to have audience with the Tallests, expecting to be moved back to Foodcourtia. Instead, the Tallests informed me that I was to be executed, and that I had wasted their time for far too long. Despite knowing at that point my mission had been a lie—I had known for quite some time—that was the ‘final straw’ as you humans say. I challenged them. I removed their PAKs and watched them suffer until their deaths. I did not kill them with mercy. I then took their place as Tallest, and thus began my five years away from Earth.”

“Jesus…” Dib muttered, grip tightening on Zim but looking away.

“See? Zim told you.”

“Did… you miss me while you were gone?” Dib asked quietly.

“Of course. Zim missed the Dib very much. You were my one worthy adversary.”

“Really?”

“Duh. Dib, Zim fought and killed the Tallests, and their guards. Brutally and easily, now that Zim’s PAK is fully functional. And yet, Zim cannot defeat the Dib. Not only for strength and speed—there, Zim would crush you. But also your brain-smarts, and Zim’s _stooped_ affections.”

“When did you fix your PAK?”

“Hm. Shortly after discovering the mission was a lie,” residual rage bubbled in Zim’s chest, and he nestled closer to Dib.

“I see. I do remember you were different. We fought really badly for a few months. Really almost killed each other a few times. Then we just stopped fighting altogether.”

“Yes,” was all Zim could muster for a reply.

“Hmm…” the two lapsed into silence for a few minutes, holding one another close and thinking about their time separated. Thinking about how different they were, until Dib spoke up again. “Hey, do you think I could work on my project here? As much as I enjoy cuddling you, this thing is due soon.” He moved away from Zim slightly.

“Of course,” Zim nodded, clambering awkwardly off the human. “Let us go to the lab.”

xxxxx

Dib worked away on his thesis with Zim working nearby. They didn’t speak much, but Dib did share with Zim some of his work; combining biochemistry and physics into a 25,000 word paper and a 40 minute presentation was a lot of work—but well worth it, in Zim’s not-so-humble opinion.

Dib was working with physics at the cellular level. It was genius—attempting to work through the topic in a way that hadn’t been done before. Yes—Dib’s gigantic head was indeed capable of a great many things, and Zim didn’t doubt he would excel at his studies of astronomy and astrophysics once they left. Zim was always impressed by Dib’s plans and inventions, even if he managed to escape or foil them.

“Zim? Are you sure it’s okay? You’re zoning out.” Dib snapped his fingers in Zim’s face.

“Yes,” Zim snapped out of his daze. “Of course. It is genius, and I think you have discovered something incredible here.”

“If you say so… fuck, I’m nervous,” Dib said, “I’m so anxious about that damn presentation, defending my thesis.”

“Do not be,” Zim replied, looking Dib in the eyes, “The Dib has never been bad at public speaking nor discussing his passions. Dib has never felt shame in his ideas or beliefs.”

“I’m not that person anymore, Zim. A lot has changed, and being ‘crazy’ kind of fucked me up.” Dib tore his eyes away.

Zim frowned hard at Dib. He didn’t like this side of the human. He used to be so passionate, so forward, so determined. Screw what everyone else thought. All Dib cared about was doing what he loved, and saving the world while doing it. “Dib. You are the smartest human I have met, and smarter than most Irkens also. Simply by being who you are, you will accomplish more than anyone you meet.”

Dib looked away, bashful, as he cleaned up his books and removed the USB containing his presentation. However, without warning, the air in the room shifted. Dib stood, moving in front of Zim and kissing him passionately, pressing the Irken to the control panel. Zim was shocked for a moment, staring at Dib all too closely, before he closed his eyes and returned the kiss just as deeply.

The human’s tongue made its way into his mouth, and while the saliva stung, it wasn’t altogether unpleasant. Zim relaxed into the kiss, reaching his hands to tangle in Dib’s hair, leaning back into the control panel where Dib pushed him. Dib only pressed into him harder, one hand holding the small of Zim’s back, the other firm on the back of his neck. Zim didn’t expect this kind of forwardness from the human, however, he let himself melt into him for a few minutes as they continued, but a sharp nip to Zim’s lip snapped him out of it. _Hell no._

Zim let a rumble escape his chest as he quickly flipped the two around. Shorter and smaller, yes, but much stronger and faster. “If we are doing this, _Dib_ , we are doing it Zim’s way.”

“Okay, okay. Just shut up and kiss me, alien boy.”

Zim did just that, hands still in Dib’s hair, tugging now. If rough was what Dib wanted, that’s what he’d get. He pulled from the human, letting him whine in wanting, before licking, kissing, and biting his way along Dib’s jaw and neck.

“F-fuck, Zim…”

The Irken growled against Dib’s skin; standing on his toes was getting uncomfortable. Instead, he used his Pak legs, both for height and stability, and continued to mark Dib in nips and bruises. Dib’s hands travelled over Zim, pulling and begging as he moaned.

“Jesus, Zim, make it more obvious, why don’t you,” Dib breathed out, but didn’t push away. Zim smirked.

Their antics continued for a while, until Zim slipped his hands up Dib’s shirt, fully intending on removing it and flipping the human around to leave marks and scars on Dib’s Invader tattoo—make it _his_. Dib pulled back quickly, but gently.

“Christ,” he muttered, laughing softly, “we should slow down. Stop for now.”

Zim dropped back down to his feet and the spider legs retreated. He grinned toothily up at Dib. “Whatever the Dib wants.”

The human looked sheepish, flush from warmth and arousal—a scent Zim could taste on his tongue and feel in the air. “Let’s reign it in then. Neither of us are ready for more yet, I don’t think.”

 _One of us, perhaps…_ “Zim will not do anything without the Dib’s consent.” Zim looked up at his human. He remembered high skool, and all of the gross discussions on human sexuality and consent, on the dangers of what was called ‘date rape’, and knew he didn’t want to put Dib in that situation—ever.

Wait.

_His human?_

Dib smiled softly, interrupting Zim’s train of thought with a gentle, “Thank you.”

xxxxx

Luckily for Dib, Zim had set up a room for him in his base. It was a fairly large room, with the bed against the far wall across from the door in the centre of the room. There was a table with a couple comfortable chairs in the corner, and a nightstand beside the bed—and way too many pillows and blankets. An absurd amount of pillows and blankets.

Dib stood in the doorway, examining the room for a long while. “What’s with all the pillows?”

Zim blinked up at Dib. “If it does not suit the Dib’s tastes, it can be changed easily.”

“Oh no, it’s fine I suppose, but that’s just—a lot of pillows. And blankets.”

Zim shrugged. “Irkens do not need much sleep, hardly any in fact. However we do enjoy nesting. I assume my computer picked the closest thing it could muster to a human bedroom and threw it together. PIECE OF GARBAGE. I CAN DISCONNECT YOU.”

**TRY ME.**

Zim growled seemingly at nothing, glaring at the roof. Dib laughed. He had a feeling this would be a perfectly fine arrangement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, and there's the end of the edits! Sorry for the hiatus for those of you reading this, life has been totally wild for me so working on this has been a pretty low priority. However, I'm working on chapter 15 currently so that should be out soon, and I've got an outline started for chapter 16 as well. Thanks again, hope you've enjoyed reading!


	15. Fights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Gosh, welcome back to the story. Finally finished this chapter, and I'll hopefully be starting up the next soon as well. Thank you everyone for your support! This one is a little shorter than some previous chapters, but I'm hoping that I can get back into the real thick of things as the plot progresses! Thanks, enjoy!

Dib had finally finished his defense. He stood, now, against the wall outside the classroom after everyone had left, breathing heavily. It really wasn’t like him to freak out like this, to be anxious and nervous. He thought it went well enough—a few tough questions that he thought he’d answered well, and to be honest, going off to Irk meant that this grade didn’t change his life too drastically. So where was the panic coming from? What had happened to him to make him so different? He used to be always bold and unafraid and the exact _opposite_ of anxious. He always dove in head-first with all the confidence he could muster, even if he needed to fake it to get though.

The more the thoughts rolled around his head, the more he began to hyperventilate. Okay. No, that’s enough. He needed a fucking drink. If anything, at least a Goddamn drink. Pulling away from the wall, Dib made his way out of the school and toward his car—having taken his keys back from Gaz in the realization that he still needed it to finish his degree—bee-lining as fast as he could to get off of campus and to the nearest bar he could find.

It didn’t take him long to reach the closest one, although he was shaking the whole time and almost drove himself off the road swinging a left into the parking lot. He parked, breathing heavily and gripping his steering wheel. Okay, relax enough to at least order a drink without looking like a lunatic. He took a few deep breaths, clenching and unclenching his hands. After a few moments, he reached for his wallet to make sure it was still in his pocket, nodded to himself, and made his way inside.

“What can I get ya?”

“Whatever’s cheapest on tap, and two shots of whiskey.”

“Sure thing,” the bartender went to pour his drinks, returning after a few minutes. “Seventeen bucks.”

Dib handed the bartender a twenty, downing his shots immediately before taking his beer down to the end of the bar, sitting himself down, rubbing his temples. Did he lock the car? Maybe. Probably not. It didn’t matter anyway.

“Shit, Dib is that you?” Dib’s head shot up, and only a couple feet away stood ‘an old friend’, as one would say, looking just as haggard as ever.

“Brad. Hey.”

“What you doin’ over here, man, this ain’t usually your scene, eh?”

“No, it isn’t,” Dib laughed, leaning back a little bit. “Needed a change of atmosphere, I guess.”

“Chill man, chill. Look, haven’t seen ya ‘round in a while. Was thinkin’ you probably got sober.”

“Well, actually—”

“Nah, nah, listen. Take this—no, relax, man, barman’s takin’ a leak and everyone here knows me—on the house, you got my number still eh? Good! Good, okay. I’m out’a here, catch ya next time huh? Good to see ya, Dib.”

Dib rolled his eyes, staring at the baggie of pills now in his hand. He never could get a word in edge-wise with that dude, which was fine, because when he was buying he didn’t want to talk much anyway. With a sigh, he stood, making his way to the bathroom to flush the pills down the toilet, bumping someone’s shoulder as he did so.

“Shit, sorry man—”

“Hey, fuckhead, watch where you’re—DIB?!”

 _Oh fuck._ “Chunk.” Dib’s expression flattened as he shoved the baggie into his pocket.

“What the fuck is a dweeb like you doing in this neck of the woods? Walkin’ into me and shit, too.”

“Oh yeah, like you own the place?” Dib laughed. “What’d you get up to after highschool anyway? Oh, that’s right. You dropped out. The fuck’re you doin? Blowing a bunch of money you don’t have on booze to get through the day?”

“You say another fuckin’ word, loser, and you’ll regret it. Freakshow.”

“Step off, Chunk, I’m not joking,” Dib growled, taking a step toward him. “Back off, mind your own business, and we’ll go our separate ways, capisce?”

“Yeah, like I’d take orders from a fucking loser like you—”

Before Dib knew what he was doing, he was swinging. His fist connected with Chunk’s jaw, causing the stocky man to take a couple steps back. He’d learned a thing or two in his fights with Zim.

Still, he shouldn’t have swung first.

Once Chunk’s own fist made contact he knew he hadn’t learned enough. Dib got a few decent hits in, but for the most part, Dib knew he’d be walking away with a broken nose and possibly jaw, until the bartender tore Chunk off of him.

“Hey, you two cut it out and get lost this instant before I call the fuckin’ cops on the both of you. Got it? Get out. But first, you, fuck, go get cleaned up, you’re bleedin’ all over my damn floor.”

Dib reached up to feel his face—both his nose and his lip were bleeding pretty heavily. There was a solid crack in his glasses that blurred his vision. “Fuck, yeah,” he muttered, turning on his heel to go clean up in the bathroom while Chunk shouted curses at his back, the bartender dragging him out.

Once in the bathroom, Dib could take a look in the mirror—his nose was _definitely_ broken, and he was already starting to bruise. He’d have a nasty black eye out of this. What a day.

After cleaning himself up, he stared at himself in the mirror, hands on the sink, breathing softly. “Fucking Christ,” he murmured, “who the fuck am I?” he laughed bitterly, tugging the pouch of pills out of his pocket, about to pour them down the sink. He hesitated.

He hesitated a little too long.

“Ah, fuck it,” he finally growled, pouring some out into his hand and downing them, chugging water out of the tap to swallow the handful. He chucked the rest into the sink, and made his way out.

“Ah, dude. That guy’s a real asshole, I know it. I feel bad you got shitkicked. You’re fine to stick around for another drink or two now he’s gone, but you gotta get lost after that,” the bartender shrugged, glancing around his mostly empty bar. Of the patrons that _were_ present, nobody was really giving them the time of day.

Dib thought about it for a moment, before shrugging and sitting down at the bar again. “Fuck it, why not. Same as before.”

“Sure thing.”

Upon arrival of his drinks, again Dib downed the shots, and chugged the beer in a few minutes. “One more for the road?” he asked, and the bartender dropped down a final shot in front of him.

“I saw you drive up. Catch a cab, man.”

“Right,” Dib murmured. The booze and pills and adrenaline from the fight were settling in—waking him up and putting him to sleep at the same time, and he stumbled out the doorway, his heart pounding in his ears and his head throbbing. Luckily taxis tended to hound outside the bars, and it was only a couple minutes and half a cigarette before the cab pulled up—the cigarette making him woozy and lightheaded thanks to the nicotine thinning his blood. It wasn’t late yet—probably not even five in the afternoon, and the sun was still blazing. An odd late-spring heatwave.

He didn’t hear what the driver said, but he knew he needed to get home. That was all that mattered right now—home. He didn’t want to be sick in the guy’s car.

It didn’t take long to arrive, and he basically threw his cash at the driver from the back seat—all he knew was that he needed to get out and get inside. He stumbled to the door, fiddling with the key in the lock, _fuck, why isn’t the key working?_

Suddenly the door opened, and Dib was staggering inside and crashing to the floor, picking himself up into a sitting motion. “Agh, fuck, J-Jesus, Goddammit,” Dib grumbled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his head. The room was spinning. He couldn’t breathe.

“Dib-beast, what on Irk--?!”

That voice was familiar. Warm.

“Zim--? What’re you—where--? Ohgodimgonnabesick—” Dib scrambled from the green figure standing over him, hurrying to the trash bin in the kitchen where he began vomiting profusely. Everything was spinning, and he continued to heave as he knelt in front of the bin until his guts could settle.

xxxxxx

Zim didn’t know what was happening, not really, but he had an idea—and he was enraged. The Dib had promised. He had one condition, and Dib—no. He didn't, though, not really, did he? Dib didn't say anything, still almost hyperventilating and staring bleary-eyed at the wall beside the garbage can. Zim growled, annoyed with himself for not getting a proper response and angry at the human for ignoring his wishes. He waltzed over to the human once he had finished throwing up, grabbing Dib more harshly than he knew he should have by the back collar of his shirt and sweater once he was done smelling up his kitchen. “For the love of Irk, Dib-stink...” he muttered, dragging the delirious and groaning human along the floor down the hall.

Pressing his free hand into a pad on the wall, a door opened, revealing the room that Zim had earlier set up for Dib.

“Is the Dib feeling any better after his hurling?” Zim asked flatly, dragging Dib to the bed and lifting the taller human onto it. Dib nodded slowly, but was still slightly gagging. With a roll of his eyes, Zim walked over to the wall, tapping it lightly with his toe, where another trash bin, bagged and all, was dispersed to him. He took it over to the side of the bed, setting it down beside Dib on the floor. “There is a bin. If the Dib needs to barf, please use such receptacle. Zim shall get some water.”

Dib groaned in response, his hands making their way to cover his eyes. “What the fuck,” he groaned as Zim left the room, “Christ, the room is spinning—”

Once out of the room, the door closed behind him, Zim leaned against the wall, closing his eyes tightly, blocking out the sound of Dib’s ragged breathing. “Irk, Dib…” he murmured. Thankfully it wasn’t too late. Thankfully Dib didn’t go as far. Thankfully Dib came right here. Thankfully—Zim didn’t have to resuscitate the human again. He never wanted to do that again. Hopefully getting off this planet and away from familiar habits would help Dib to break them. He couldn’t keep doing this for the human every other week. He had a planet to run, Impending Doom to manage, control brains to deal with, an escaped prisoner to kill.

But if he didn’t have time for the Dib…

Zim shook the thought from his head. No, he’d always have time for Dib. He always has, always will. Dumb human.

Zim made his way to the kitchen, carefully filling a glass with water from the tap to make sure he didn’t get any on himself. He grabbed one of Gir’s fancy straws from a drawer, knowing the human would just spill water all over himself without it. He also grabbed a bottle of pills from another drawer and made his way back to the room. Sleeping was still an odd thing for Zim, for he didn’t need much of it himself unless he were overworked to the point of exhaustion, and it was mainly a way to rest his pak, however he knew that the Dib would need _a lot_ of sleep to recover from this, much like last time, however he didn’t appear to be almost dead. The sweet, sickly smell of amphetamines and alcohol was pouring off the human—hmm…

“Computer, ensure there is a human _bath room_ built next to the Dib’s room, with a door. And ensure CORRECT VENTILATION AS ZIM DOES NOT WISH TO EXPERIENCE UNNECESSARY WATER AND CONDENSATION.”

**YEAH, YEAH.**

Zim sighed. He didn’t know why he didn’t reprogram the damn computer by now, but like with Gir, he had grown an odd affection for the damn thing. Finally, he made his way back into the bedroom. Dib was asleep at this point, one arm thrown over his eyes. Zim moved forward, gently shaking the human awake.

“Dib. You must have some water and take these,” Zim muttered softly, the anger slowly bubbling out of him. He didn’t have the energy anymore.

“Mmph…” Dib grumbled, but slowly sat himself up on his free elbow, letting Zim hold the glass of water near him so he could drink through the straw, still bleary-eyed and unfocused and shaking. He took the pills from Zim’s opposite hand, and swallowed those down too.

“Dib?! What—what happened to you?” Zim asked, startled, now noticing the blood and bruising on his face, setting the glass down on the table next to the bed.

“Chunk,” Dib grumbled, lowering himself back down into the mess of pillows and blankets.

 _Chunk…? Oh_. Him. From skool. Zim sighed quietly, again standing to walk to the wall and taping a few keys into a pad on the wall, a panel opening to reveal a few soft, white-folded sheets. Zim picked one up delicately, moving back to the bed. “Go to sleep, Dib-stupid,” he muttered softly, rubbing the towelette gently on the human’s face. “Zim will see you in the morning.”

It didn’t take long for the human to fall asleep, and he finally looked somewhat peaceful with the blood cleaned off his face and not struggling through substances wreaking havoc on his system. Zim tugged the glasses off the human and placed them on the nightstand, rising from the bed to exit the room.

xxxxxx

Dib awoke with a splitting headache and sore all over, feeling like he’d repeatedly bashed his face into a brick wall. Which may have been partially true considering Chunk’s fists weren’t a far cry from ‘brick wall’. Slowly, Dib pulled himself into a sitting position, glancing to his side to see the water, which he downed immediately. It was dark in the room, but not pitch black; lights seemed to emit gently from behind the panels in the walls, red and purple and white, casting an absurd glow over the room. He sat up further, startled and confused by now, putting on his glasses to see more clearly. “Where the hell…?”

**THE HUMAN IS AWAKE. CREEP.**

As soon as the computer-voice sounded, the door swung open toward Dib, causing him to jump, and Zim stood tall, straight, and expressionless, staring at Dib with eyes the human couldn’t read, a steaming cup of black coffee in his ungloved hand. Zim made his way wordlessly toward the bed, holding the cup out to Dib.

“Zim?”

“The Dib showed up drunk, high, and beaten to a pulp on Zim’s doorstep last night. Zim meant to ask how the presentation went, but it would have been impossible to penetrate your brain with any sort of sense,” Zim said flatly, letting Dib take the cup from him gingerly.

“Fuck. Zim, I’m sorry. It actually went well I think, I just—”

“Save your excuses, Dib-stink," Zim dismissed Dib with a hand straight-out. "Zim will not have you do this again. I have neither the time nor the energy to babysit a hopped-up human acting like a smeet appearing on his doorstep unexpectedly.”

Dib stared at Zim, his face reddening out of embarrassment and shame. “Zim. I really am sorry. I didn’t plan on taking a bunch of pills, I didn’t even buy them.”

“Oh? And Zim supposes they fell out of the sky and into Dib’s open mouth?” Zim snapped in response, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression shifting—very slightly—to anger.

Dib cringed. “No. I ran into my old dealer. He just—he gave me some and was gone before I could say no. I was already stressed and drinking, and then I ran into Chunk, and I just…” Dib trailed off, taking a sip of the coffee and running a hand through his probably messy scythe hair. “I really am sorry. Especially showing up unexpectedly like that.”

“If the Dib is having second thoughts about coming to Irk—” Zim turned slightly, running the palm of his hand over his antennae and smoothing them down as if it were hair. It was an oddly human gesture, and Dib could see the tension in Zim’s shoulders despite the mostly unreadable expression on his face and in his voice.

“No! No. I’m not,” Dib said, grabbing Zim’s free hand and almost spilling hot coffee all over himself. He set the mug down on the nightstand next to the water. “Please, sit down,” Dib said, scooting back slightly to make more room for the Irken. Hesitantly, Zim sat down. “I promise, you won’t have to deal with that again. I swear. I thought I was done after I overdosed. I never wanted you to see me like that again. I can get pretty fucking low sometimes, if we’re being honest, but—I didn’t want you to see that. I mean, Christ, even Tea and Keo basically tore me a new asshole when they found out.” Dib began fidgeting, trying to explain himself, apologize, and make promises he definitely wanted to keep, all at the same time.

“Dib, your big head holds a lot of smarts, but it holds a lot of stupids too,” Zim sighed, a hint of a joke under the venom on his tongue. Dib cautioned a glance up at the Irken, whose hard eyes had softened slightly. “Zim worries about you. As the Tallest, I cannot afford the time to the worry you cause. Zim is—concerned.”

“About worrying about me? You won’t have to do that anymore, like I said. I promise. It’s done.”

“Oh, Dib. Zim is incapable of _not_ worrying about you,” the alien huffed, turning away from Dib. "And Zim is _also_ still angry with you."

Dib cringed, fidgeting with the blanket still overtop of himself with his free hand. "I really am sorry…”

“I know,” Zim sighed, rubbing his temples. Dib watched the Irken, one antennae twitching in either stress or annoyance, Dib wasn’t sure. “Dib. Zim thinks, perhaps, the Dib should return to his house. Your projects are over and you should say goodbye to your creepy sister and father-thingy. I must prepare for the trip, as should you.” Zim stood, towering over Dib in a way he didn’t know was possible. He felt small. “When you are ready to leave, return to my base and we will discuss everything.”

Dib stood shakily, placing the cup of coffee down on the nightstand once more, reaching out and gently grabbing Zim’s wrist as the Irken turned to walk away. “Zim, what’s happening here?”

Zim frowned up at Dib, his expression having neutralized. “I believe this is what you humans would call _‘a fight’_. How it can be considered such a thing without physical violence, Zim is not sure, in any case, it is a _disagreement_.”

Dib dropped Zim’s arm. “We’re fighting right now? Really?”

“Yes.”

“Just like that, you’ve decided we’re in a fight?” Dib huffed.

“Indeed.”

“God—are we even going to have a proper conversation about this?” Dib snapped at Zim’s one-word responses. "I've apologized, I've promised it isn't going to happen again, what more do you want?"

“No,” Zim said, and Dib bristled again. “We will discuss this issue further once we have calmed down. Zim does not currently wish to cause the Dib harm, but that will _change quite quickly_ should you continue with your _human responses_ and press the issue further. Zim has decided to take a note from your human suggestions—we will sleep on it and return more level-headed, yes?”

Dib stared at Zim in awe, confusion, and frustration. How was he even supposed to argue with Zim right now?

“If the Dib so desires, through that door is a shower. You may clean off your boozy _huuman_ stink in there. Zim is going to the lab. Return once your affairs are in order.” Zim turned on his heel, standing straight, and marching out the door.

Okay. Well. That’s how that went. Dib stared at the door as it Zim disappeared behind it. A fight? A _disagreement_? Really? Dib bristled. He didn't want Zim's shower--he wanted to go get his car and drive home to shower there. How could they really be _fighting_ about something like this? Maybe if they _did_ just wrestle and punch and scratch it out, they'd get past it quicker. Dib rolled his eyes and groaned out his exhaserbation before heading out, slamming every door shut that he passed through.

A _fight_. Outrageous. He supposed it was like Zim to get angry at something stupid like that. Dib figured they'd kind of talked it out, and while it was a stupid decision, and he knew he screwed up, he did get his ass kicked over it and would be williing to suffer another ass-kicking from Zim. He'd gotten his karma, right? Apologize and move on, Dib figured. He stood outside, fished his phone out of his pocket, and called a cab.

All the way to his car and driving back to the house, Dib fumed and ranted mentally to himself. Sometimes Zim was completely irrational. There was no point in arguing with him, no point in trying to have even a level conversation. Zim. Always. Won. Zim always got his way. When he couldn't control something, the Irken lost his mind. That was just how it was, how it always would be, and Dib thought that was completely unfair. Zim, now the ruler of an entire planet, still acted like a child whenever he could.

Besides, hadn't he proven himself enough? He wasn't the one who disappeared for five years. Zim wasn't the one who was stuck in the Crazy House for Boys. Fine, Zim had to take control of his planet and get his people to respect him, and he couldn't imagine that being an easy feat. But they both had their problems and they were going to have to try and find a way to make this all work. Dib wasn't willing to say goodbye again--whatever was happening on Irk meant that Zim had to leave, and he wasn't willing to let Zim go without him.

Dib slammed the front door closed once he got home and kicked off his shoes, immediately beelining for the shower.

"DIB. WHY are you so LOUD?!" Gaz snapped from her place on the couch. Jesus, what even were her hours at work...?

"Oh. Gaz. Sorry. Just, uh. Back from Zim's."

"You smell like whiskey and death."

Dib chuckled awkwardly. "Uh. Yeah. Got pretty drunk yesterday. I was pretty stressed about my honours presentation, but I think it actually went pretty well all things considered."

"Then why did you get piss-ass drunk?" Gaz asked, turning around and crossing her arms over the back of the couch, one eyebrow raised at Dib, who shuffled in response.

"How do _you_ know how drunk I got?"

"You look like a sack of assholes that Satan vomited up on New Year’s Day. And you're mad about something. Spill."

Dib heaved a sigh. "Well, I'm taking off with Zim soon, you know that. I got really drunk and got in a fight with Chunk after my presentation yesterday; I was panicking about it. I think it went well but it was kind of a huge deal. Then I showed up at Zim's late last night and now he says we're in a 'fight'."

"Were you high?"

"What?!"

"Dib. I'm not stupid, stupid."

Dib shuffled anxiously, pulling his arms close to himself, crossed high on his chest. He avoided eye contact at all costs. “I... yeah. I was. My old dealer was at the bar, he gave me a handful of pills, probably to get me buying again. I was going to flush them when I bumped into Chunk and got the shit kicked out of me,” he shrugged. “I got a few good hits in, though.”

“You’re an idiot, Dib. Look, if Zim is mad at you for showing up drunk and high and bleeding, then he’s kind of in the right.”

“I know that, but I apologized and I promised it wouldn’t happen again. I mean, fuck, we’re both adults now—why is he acting like an angry kid? He won’t even talk to me about it.”

Gaz heaved a sigh and flopped back down into her seat on the couch, her back now to Dib and resuming her game. “You have to prove it, Dib. Think of it as one of your little fights in skool. Show him you’re worth trusting.”

Dib blinked at the back of Gaz’s head for a few moments, before sighing softly. “Okay. Thanks, Gaz.” He turned to shower, when Gaz shouted back at him.

“And shower. You’re seriously disgusting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Edited the chapter up, currently working on chapter 16. Sorry it's taken so long for updates, life has been absolutely wild! I also just started a (very terrible) Dib Ask blog on tumblr (loosely) based on this! askthedibbeast on tumblr


	16. Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOWza. Finally, another chapter up. Hopefully more will be posted soon. If you're interested, I am also running a dark & twisty ask/rp blog now on tumblr that is very loosely (very) based off this fanfiction (mainly in the fact that Dib is a druggie fuckup and Zim is MissingTM). Enjoy!

After his shower, Dib sat in front of his computer, not doing anything but thinking about what happened, and what Gaz said. He wasn’t sure how to prove to Zim that he could be trusted—and Zim needed to do the same. He was scared of losing Zim again, after having just gotten him back. It had only been a few weeks. Everything was moving so fast, part the point they were at when Zim left. They’d never kissed. Their fights were, clearly, very sexually-charged, but nothing ever happened. They obviously never talked about it. Zim didn’t even tell him what was happening or that he was leaving until _after_ he got back.

Dib sighed and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. All he could do was continue to support Zim as Tallest of his planet. Show the Irken that he wasn’t planning on doing drugs again, and hell, that’d be pretty damn easy once they left the planet and he didn’t have access to them anymore. He just had to make it until they left Earth. As for his thesis... honestly? He was leaving anyway. Onto bigger and better things, where he can actually learn so much more and put it to use. His marks, honestly, didn’t matter. His research mattered—otherwise he wouldn’t have been writing and researching it. It was a big deal, and the biggest was that it may have impressed his father, for once, finally, to win his _real_ approval.

But that was enough. Dib couldn’t do it anymore, and he was leaving. He knew Zim would find ways to keep him busy on Irk—and very likely out of Zim’s way—and he knew that education would be far more invaluable than what he could get on Earth.

Aliens were _real_ , not just Zim, but a plethora of them, and he would be in a world where it was just _basic fucking knowledge_. It was _wonderful_ , in every way, that he could just be right. He could study alien races and planets and lifestyles. He could delve deep into biology and chemistry and astronomy and astrophysics and _still_ be a cryptozoologist. Fuck Earth, there would be so much more interesting shit to research out there without everyone thinking he was insane.

So why was he so stressed about it? Dib dropped his chair back on the ground and started pacing around his room. His family, of course. Tea and Keo, too. He’d miss them like nothing else, even his father, even Gaz and her terrifying demeanour, but he knew they’d all be okay. He could keep in touch, too; obviously Irken technology was good enough to reach from Irk to Earth, if the receiving devices were strong enough, which Dib definitely had hidden away in his dad’s lab somewhere as ‘projects’. He’d set Tea and Keo up, and his family.

As for Zim... he still didn’t quite understand their relationship. It wasn’t logical by any means. As Dib got older, especially without Zim around, all of his impulsive nature seemed to have disappeared. Any inkling of his life before seems to have faded, and the only thing he learned to rely on was logic. Zim wasn’t, and would never be, logical. In any way, shape, or form. Their relationship would never be logical. It never has been. Dib took a deep breath and stretched. He’d have to go to Zim’s soon, talk to him again, apologize again, but first, he had to get ready to leave. Zim was moving quickly, it seemed, and with some sense of urgency. Must have to do with the escaped convict? With whatever was going on with the Resisty? Is that what it was called? Zim seemed on edge lately, and extremely busy with being Tallest, and it couldn’t just be about Dib.

“DIB. SOMEONE AT THE DOOR,” Gaz’s voice exchoed up the stairs. Dib stared at his bedroom door for a minute. Obviously it wasn’t Zim—first of all, he’d come to the window and not the front door, second, Gaz didn’t seem to know who that was so it couldn’t have been Tea or Keo either (who he would have to see soon before he left with Zim). Strange.

Dib adjusted himself and hurried down the stairs, stopping at the bottom dead in his tracks and eyes wide.

“Chunk? What the fuck are you doing... here...?” Dib’s words trailed off as Gaz went upstairs and into her room, grumbling to herself. Chunk looked... worse for wear, to say the least. He had a black eye and a bruised jaw, those Dib was sure he’d caused himself, but he also had a badly broken nose and his eyes were watering—from tears or just the pain, Dib wasn’t sure. His right hand was also bandaged up, and he looked like he had scratches all over himself. He was shaking. “Uh. Are you... okay?” Dib asked.

“I... uh... figured I should apologize,” Chunk shrugged, glancing around nervously. He looked uncomfortable, scared, and just all-around bizarre.

“Oh yeah?” Dib asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “What for, exactly?”

“Well, uh... kickin’ your ass last night I guess, and... everything else. Y’know. Since skool. Bullying and shit. I’m sorry, man, you won’t hear from me again,” Chunk shrugged, glanced around anxiously, then turned and scurried off. He had a limp.

It took a moment for Dib to clue in. Zim.

 _Oh Jesus Christ, Zim_.

Dib rolled his eyes as far back as they could go, heaved a sigh, and made his way upstairs. Okay, fair enough, it was nice that Zim wanted to protect him, and he was kind of flattered, but if this was the Irken’s way of saying he had forgiven Dib, or if this was his way of apologizing, Dib wasn’t sure how to take that. He wasn’t sure if beating up an adversary was appropriate, at least not on Earth. Maybe on Irk. At this point, though, he figured Zim should know these things about Earth, right?

Dib headed into his room and grabbed his suitcase. He tossed in what he knew he should take—some clothes and the like, a couple external hard drives, some of his textbooks, a few notebooks. He checked his backpack—nothing he really needed in there except for his wallet and his phone, but he figured he should take a few devices, too, to stay in touch with everyone. Dib hurried back downstairs and further into the lab in the basement. His dad was, of course, at work, which he was thankful for. He’d have to come back to say goodbye again.

Dib spent the next few hours making sure all of the devices were connected and in working order. The time flew by—it had been ages since he had done any mechanical or electronics work. He had forgotten that he’d gotten pretty skilled at it throughout skool. He only stopped after Zim left. There were piles of left-over and unfinished devices and machines, most of which were his own but some that were his father’s. Most of Professor Membrane’s experiments were at his work.

Once he had finished, Dib brought everything upstairs and decided to connect them to the TV—that way, if Gaz or his father were home, he’d appear on the TV and could override whatever programming was on there. Unless someone forgot to turn the TV off, he could use that as a way to ensure someone was actually home when he called. Dib glanced down at his wrist. He still had Zim’s communicator on. He wondered, now, why Zim hadn’t come to him; he was certain it would have notified Zim of increased heartrate, of his blood alcohol content, of other increased substance content. He sighed. He knew why—he had proven Zim wrong in trusting him after his overdose. Zim didn’t want to bring him back from the brink of death again, and Dib didn’t blame him at all. Gaz was right, and while that wasn’t unusual, it always hurt his pride—even when they were kids.

Dib hurried back upstairs to collect his things and took them out to the car, packing up the trunk before getting into the driver’s seat. After starting the car, he stayed still, hands clenched on the steering wheel. Why was he so nervous? This was it. He had to go, had to do it, had to _commit_ , this time, for real, with everything. Zim, being sober, his future studies and career, _space_ for Christ’s sake.

Lighting a cigarette, Dib drove off.

xxxxxx

Zim was sitting on the couch with Gir most of the day, watching the stoopid _teevee_. He was trying to get his mind off Dib for a while. This proved to be almost impossible. He tried to work, manage Irk and the Massive, manage his invaders, give direction to the militia and the supporting planets regarding the Resisty and the escaped convict, but nothing helped.

_Irk, Dib-beast..._

The human had a huge impact on Zim, and he knew that. The human always had, since before they became ‘friends’, since before Zim left, since he came back. Dib had always been... well, massively important to the Irken. Even before he realized his mission was all a lie, and even after, Zim relied on the human. It was true, Zim did all of this for himself. For his planet. For his people. To give them _real_ and _powerful_ leadership, what they deserved. However, he was also doing this for Dib, and honestly, Dib hadn’t given him any reason to believe he wanted it.

A few ‘make-outs’, as humans called it, was not enough proof that Dib truly wanted to leave. That Dib truly wanted to join Zim as the most powerful being in the known galaxies. That, and Dib was so very, very different. The human had grown far more anxious, far less self-assured, less confident. Dib had given up his paranormal studies for ‘Real Science’ as his horrible parent-thingy called it. Dib was smart, genious even, that was for sure, and Dib was brilliant at _everything_ he did. If the human put his mind to something, it could be accomplished. Zim knew Dib’s prowess would not go unnoticed if he continued seriously in either, or both, of those fields—but Dib sacrificed part of himself for the other, had changed so completely and fully, that Zim hardly recognized him anymore. There was hardly any fight left in the human, and that was such a shame. He so missed their fights. The _physical_ ones, anyway... Zim shivered, antennae twitching atop his head.

As for the drugs and the drinking? Well, Zim had seen it all before. Being an Invader was extremely hard and stressful work, and extraordinarily dangerous, and many Irkens fell into the same or similar patterns. It was truly a universal issue, so it wasn’t like Zim didn’t understand it, but he very much didn’t like it. Dib should be stronger than that—it was one of the many things Zim grew to respect about him. Not only could he not bear to watch Dib nearly die again, but he knew how much of a media and political nightmare it would be would he arrive on the Massive or Irk with a partner who had an addiction. It screamed weakness, and Zim could _not_ allow that.

Partner... Zim chuckled to himself. At this point, he knew what he really wanted from Dib. Unfortunately, he wasn’t yet certain that Dib was ready for, or wanted, that level of commitment. Irken relationships were far, far different from human relationships. He had known that from the beginning. Nevermind the whole meat debacle, which still gave Zim chills thinking about it—even though Tak was now working _for_ him, and had become one of his most valuable Invaders—but everything else was so very different. He would have to explain this to Dib, and initiate him into it slowly, let him climatize, and Zim couldn’t say for sure whether or not that was what Dib wanted. Zim knew he couldn’t give Dib a human relationship, especially as Tallest.

Zim groaned loudly and stood up, stomp-pacing through the kitchen and living room while Gir attempted to watch TV around him.

“Stoopid, pathetic, worthless Earth _feelings_ and stoopid being Tallest, and CURSE Dib’s STOOPID, GIGANTIC, BRILLIANT HEAD!” Zim stomped his feet and crossed his arms high over his chest, glancing down at his own communicator. Nothing out of the ordinary. “FOR THE LOVE OF IRK—” Zim berated himself for obsessively checking the device. He had practically kicked Dib out that morning... he wondered if Chunk had shown up at the human’s house yet.

Getting his anger out by beating up and threatening Chunk _did_ make him feel better, for a little while. Despite Dib’s _stoopidness_ , he would not, and could not, tolerate anyone attacking his human. Ever. No person or creature would dare to lay their hands on Dib. A growl bubbled up deep in Zim’s chest as he thought about it. If he could just destroy all of the human’s addictive and harmful substances the same way...

 _His human._ Zim shivered again.

Truly, Zim just hated seeing the human hurting and in pain. Why couldn’t Dib see that? Zim wanted to protect him, now, too. That change happened slowly, while they were in high skool, while Zim was discovering Red and Purple’s true intentions. Their relationship slowly slided from violent, to defensive, to neutral, to amicable, and then friendly.

Then Zim had left.

He regretted how he left for five years. He still regretted it, but he had no choice at the time. It was either he leave immediately or have the planet be destroyed by leagues of Irken Invaders and militia, and he knew if he never came back, he didn’t want anyone to remember him, but...

Zim couldn’t bring himself to erase Dib’s memories, too. Selfish. It was entirely and fully selfish, nothing that Zim wasn’t used to—he had always been selfish, and a touch narcissistic—but he couldn’t bear the thought of returning and Dib not remembering who he was. Now, however, Zim was back, and he felt as though they had to start everything all over again, from the beginning, but with a lot more physical affection and a lot less Dib.

That wasn’t to say Zim wasn’t different, too. They both had changed. Zim had to become smarter, stronger, fix his pak and truly make Red and Pur regret everything they had put him through. He had to become a true leader, and violence was the way to achieve that on his planet. Fighting ran in their blood. Even their service workers, their doctors, their inventors and mechanics, every Irken from every walk of life knew how to fight. They battled it out on television, to get ahead, to win over mates. He doubted, though, that Dib understood that fact. He had to be, just a little bit, someone else in order to succeed and rule his planet and the others that the Irkens controlled. It was a massive, pardon the pun, undertaking. Thankfully, Zim grew a wonderful team to help him do so—Zek, Nui, Kat, Sah, and Tak. They were invaluable to him, and they ran everything well in his absense. Not to mention the countless others running the massive.

Zim had begun pacing again and hadn’t noticed when a vehicle stopped on the cul-de-sac outside of his yard, didn’t hear footsteps approaching, didn’t taste or smell Dib’s tangy, sweet, noxious, and a little-bit-sickening scent at the door, the Irken was so lost in thought. He didn’t hear the television, didn’t hear Gir squealing as he answered the door, didn’t hear his computer’s alerts—so when he turned around, and saw Dib standing at the door with a weak smile on his face, Zim was... surprised, to say the least.

“GYACK!” The Irken nearly tripped over himself as he swung around and saw the human, stumbling backwards and catching himself on his spider legs, instinctively whipping a laser gun out of his pak as if to shoot. Old habits die hard, and he so rarely expected Dib to show up at the door of his base except to attempt to sneak in and foil plans or to splash water in his face.

Dib’s eyes widened in shock, then in laughter, and slowly, Zim relaxed.

“Oh. It is you, Dib-stink. Yes, yes, the Dib has INTERRUPTED Zim in his very important... WORK THINGS. TALLEST THINGS. _Important thingsssss._ WHAT DO YOU WANT.”

Zim watched as Dib shuffled awkwardly. “Uh, can I come in?”

Crossing his arms high up on his chest, Zim nodded. “Yes, very well,” he muttered, noticing Dib’s backpack and suitcase. He couldn’t help but smirk a little bit. He’d prepared quicker than he thought. And his face—well, it looked somewhat better, thankfully.

“So, Chunk showed up at my door today,” Dib muttered as he carefully took his items inside, setting them by the door. Gir ran out front, instantly in his green dog suit again, squealing after a squirrel.

A sick grin spread across Zim’s face. Good. “Did he?”

“I wonder if you had something to do with that,” Dib said, turning to face the Irken with a raised eyebrow. “Your face seems to suggest yes.”

Zim cackled. “Yesss... torturing the smelly worm-baby WAS Zim’s doing. If he ever appears to the Dib-beast again...” his grin faded and a deep rumble escaped his chest before he could stop it. The idea of someone else’s hands on Dib...

“Woah. Zim, relax. Thank you for trying to protect me, but I came over here to talk. Is it a good time?” Dib asked, moving to the couch and sitting down. He patted the spot next to him.

Zim shook himself out of his rage and blinked at Dib with wide eyes. “Oh. Yes, Zim supposes now is as good a time as any. What would the Dib like to say?” The human patted the couch again. “Zim will stand.”

With a shrug, Dib began to speak. “I wanted to apologize again. Sincerely. I know you must have been scared when I showed up—high again, drunk, beaten up. I don’t like worrying you like that, and I know if I were in your position I’d be angry, too. So, I want the chance to prove that I’m in it. I’m here, Zim, and despite all the shit that’s happened, despite the last five years, I feel like we can really... give it a go. And I’m ready to leave Earth and come with you. I just need one more day to say goodbye to everyone.”

Zim nodded thoughtfully, eyes slightly narrowed but antennae relaxed. “Zim will give Dib the chance to prove himself—”

“But you need to prove something to me, too,” Dib interrupted. Zim blinked in shock. How DARE the Dib-beast interrupt— “I need you to prove to me you won’t leave again. I can’t be scared of losing you every time I turn around. I still... I still feel like I don’t quite have you back. I know you’re a little different, and I’m really different, but... the idea of watching you die on Irk if that prisoner guy fights you and wins, or the idea of you disappearing again and never coming back... I’m not doing that again.”

With a soft sigh, Zim made his way over to the couch and sat next to Dib after all. Foolish human. “Zim will not lose, and it was, and never will be, Zim’s intention to leave the Dib again. Stoopid,” he grumbled, looking away.

Humans and their _feels_. Suddenly, the Irken felt Dib’s hand on the back of his neck. The touch was genle, but enough. Zim felt himself relax, unwillingly, into the warmth of the humans touch. Dib’s fingers continued to graze the Irken’s skin by the collar of his uniform, tucking under it, short but jagged nails brushing along his collarbone.

“Can you forgive me?” Dib’s voice was soft. Airy. _Heavy_. Instinctively, Zim stuck his tongue out between his zipper teeth, then turned to Dib with a slight smirk. He could taste the heat dripping off the human.

That was fast.

“Zim is sure he can manage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on the next one as we speak--chapter 17 will llkely be smutty and NSFW. Get ready.


	17. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey. I'm back! I'm alive! Here's the next chapter--uh. OBVIOUSLY nsfw. I did not proofread this, as I cannot stare at this chapter any longer. It has been haunting me for months.

Dib didn’t know what he was doing, but it felt right, caressing Zim like this. Being near the Irken made him feel warm, and touching him again, feeling that he was _real_ and _here_ was more than he could ask for.

It’s what he had been asking for, for five years.

“Can I kiss you?” Dib asked, cocking his head to the side. The glint in Zim’s eyes made his chest tighten.

“Zim supposes.”

Dib grinned slightly, leaning in and pressing his lips to Zim’s. He wanted to keep the kiss gentle—show Zim, in every way he could, that he was trying. He pulled back after a moment, humoured by Zim’s quiet whine. “Zim, I know Irkens take their word seriously, so I want to promise you. No more drugs. I promise.”

Zim nodded, eyes half-lidded, before he reached out and grabbed Dib by the jaw, startling the human and bringing him into a far more passionate kiss. Dib responded in kind, tightening his grasp on the back of Zim’s neck. Before he knew what was happening, Zim’s arms were draped over his shoulders and the lithe Irken was stradling him—he was raised higher up on his knees, causing Dib to need to tilt his head up. Always the need to be Taller.

Their tongues found each other, and Dib could feel and hear the hiss of Zim’s reaction to his saliva, but as before, Zim didn’t pull away.

Slowly, Dib trailed his hands from Zim’s neck and shoulders, down his waist, and then gripping his hips.

Zim purred into his mouth.

Dib’s back arched.

Zim’s claws gripped his hair.

 _Closer. I need to be closer_.

Dib pushed Zim away suddenly but gently, gasping for air. He adjusted his glasses, which had been knocked crooked. Zim was grinning widely down at him, his eyes dark—that way they got...

“Pause,” Dib breathed out shakily.

Zim stopped immediately, but the look didn’t disappear from his eyes. “Of course. Is the Dib-beast alright?”

Dib nodded quickly. “Yes! I just. What are we doing? Where is this going? I know what I want—but—I don’t know. I guess I need to be sure.”

Zim relaxed himself down into Dib’s lap, still stradling him but sitting lower, more comfortably. “Dib. Zim will only do what the Dib wants. Irken.... _‘relationships’_ are not like humans’. Especially now that I am Tallest. If the Dib would like, we may discuss this first rather than move forward with—” Zim waved his arm around, “this.”

Dib shook his head. “No. I want to save the talking for later. I feel like I’ve killed the mood enough as is,” he laughed awkwardly, feeling an uncomfortable blush rise into his cheeks. “I feel like I’m already thinking too much about it. Can we—go somewhere more comfortable though?”

Zim cocked his head to the side, one of his antennae twitching as he listened. “Yes,” was all the Irken said in response, slipping smoothly off Dib’s lap and taking his hand, guiding him toward the room he had slept in just last night, down the hall. Once at the door, Zim turned to Dib again, grabbing his jacket tightly by the collar and pulling Dib’s face down to his own. “Promise Zim that if the Dib does not like something or wishes to stop, he will ask.”

Dib yelped at the sudden tug, but his face relaxed at Zim’s words. He rose a hand to caress the Irken’s surprisingly soft cheek. “Of course. I promise.”

“Promise Zim that the Dib intends on taking the trip to Irk seriously.”

“Promise me you won’t leave again.”

The two stared at each other as if locked in a promise-war, before Zim pushed open the door and, still holding onto Dib’s jacket collar, tugged the human with him inside.

Before Dib knew what was happening, the door was sliding shut behind him and he was being pressed against the door, hard, and Zim’s mouth was on his jaw, and neck, hands hard on his shoulders—

Flashbacks, to that night deep in Zim’s lab—

All Dib felt was warm, _hot_ even, and the pressure of the Irken against him. Teeth, claws, hands, his jacket dropping to the floor, his head leaning back to thud against the door, knees shaking. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and in his throat, ringing in his ears, and in his—

“Is the Dib alright,” Zim asked against Dib’s throat, knocking him out of his trance. Zim’s voice was a low growl, coming from deep in his own chest, and when Dib looked down at the Irken, he saw that his eyes had darkened. They were glossy and almost maroon, a smirk pulling at his mouth.

“For the love of _Christ_ , Zim, stop checking up on me,” Dib huffed back.

Zim’s smirk became a full-fledged grin, and slowly, he reached down to grab Dib’s wrist and tugged him to the bed, slowly pushing him down to lay on it and climbing only slightly gracefully on top of him, hands resting on his chest.

The Irken said nothing as he sat up slowly, peeling his gloves off and dropping them off the edge of the bed. Dib stared up at Zim, his mouth slightly agape and hands resting on the outside of Zim’s thighs, the pleather sticky under his clammy palms. Once Zim’s hands were free, he leaned forward again, gently grazing his claws down the human’s chest and releasing a coy purr.

Smoothly, and with all of the prowess and predatory nature of a big cat, Zim began sliding his way down Dib’s body, unzipping his hoodie as he did so, hooking his claws under the hem of his shirt and sweater with. One antenna perked up high, the other smoothed back. It was a question. Dib nodded weakly, and Zim tugged the articles of clothing off, leaving Dib feeling awkward and slightly frazzled—and _immediately_ self-conscious.

His tattoos did little to cover the scars littering his body, the ink crawling up his arms to dip over his shoulders, stopping just at his chest—some scars were caused by Zim many years ago, the rest self-inflicted. Burn scars, whitish slices, and track marks in the crook of his elbow. He turned away, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth and beginning to worry it.

He felt a light touch along his chest, followed by Zim’s hand under his jaw, tugging his head to face him again. Zim’s expression had softened significantly.

“You are _handsome_ , Dib-stink. There is no reason to feel uncomfortable here. Not with Zim. _Never_ with Zim.”

Dib released a tension he didn’t realize he was holding in his shoulders, nodding slowly in response. The Irken leaned down, casting an honest, small smile to Dib before kissing along his now-bare chest, paying particular attention to each scar— _especially_ the ones caused by _him_.

“ _Scars_ , Dib, _mean you have **survived**_ ,” he murmured into Dib’s skin. His heart-rate picked up again with each kiss and lick and nibble, letting his head fall back into the bed again and balling the blanket beneath him into his fists, grip-and-release. He could feel Zim’s smirk as he reached his lower abdomen, claws tugging at the buckle of his belt.

Dib looked down in time to see Zim grinning back up at him, the predatory clarity returned to eyes that were flushed hot pink. **_Woah_.**

“Zim—” Dib murmured, feeling his own cheekbones heat up as Zim sat up again, gripping the hem of his uniform. Dib stopped him, sitting up slightly and gripping Zim’s hand. “No. Let me.” Zim’s smirk only widened, moving his hands out of the way as Dib tugged the uniform up and off, far less gracefully than had Zim done it himself.

The alien was scarred, too—much less than Dib, and the scars were quite obviously from fights. A few he had landed himself; there was still a scar along Zim’s upper arm from an almost-missed knife throw on one of their more vicious fights. The rest looked like scratches, coming in twos or threes, one set particularly deep across his chest. Dib sat up—the Irken still straddling his hips—and leaned down to leave his own far damper kisses along the scars, eliciting a hissing purr from the smaller of the two, dragging his callused hands up along Zim’s back, feeling each scar roughly as Zim arched his back and let his head fall backwards. “How?” Dib asked, buried now in the crook of Zim’s neck.

“Red and purple did not go down without a fight,” Zim murmured, still chittering softly, rolling his shoulders in a half-shrug as he released a breath into the touch of Dib’s hands. Before Dib could continue his line of questioning, Zim was shoving him back down and was _on him_ again, nipping and licking along his throat, down to collar bone, down his chest and turning sharply to bite at Dib’s left nipple. Dib could feel the smirk as he yelped. “Dib-stink needs some sun,” he raked his nails down his sides, enough to mark but not to bleed.

Dib squirmed into the claws, eyes squeezing shut as Zim continued to trail his way back down again. His eyes opened again, however, when the Irken returned to his belt buckle, a flush rising in his cheeks. _“Zim,”_ Dib felt himself whine. The last of his garments felt tighter around him—uncomfortable and warm.

 _“Yes, Dib?”_ Zim drawled, playing coy as he jingled the buckle with one long finger, licking an alien tongue along sharp teeth. Dib swallowed thickly, not wanting to vocalize his desires. Thankfully, Zim took his non-response, tugging open the belt buckle, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, and slowly sliding them off—boxer-briefs included.

Dib closed his eyes and yanked a hand up to cover his face, embarrassed at Zim’s quick movements. The Irken had _never_ seen him nude before. His face was on fire and heart pounding in the back of his throat.

 _“Oh my~”_ Zim purred, and Dib opened one eye to peek through his fingers at the Irken as he licked his lips, staring at Dib _hungrily_.

“Z-Zim—” he muttered, and Zim stood from the bottom of the bed, looking up to catch Dib’s eyes as he tugged his own pants down and off, kicking them aside easily along with his boots, not breaking eye contact. _“O-oh…”_ he muttered, moving his hand from his eyes to cover his mouth, taking in _all of him_. He wasn’t surprised by what he saw, but he _was_ surprised by his body’s reaction to it, his now-free member twitching in anticipation.

“Computer.” Zim said flatly, snapping his fingers. The lights dropped down low, and they were lit now only by a purple wall-light on the left and a red light on the right, casting a glow across Zim’s skin and brightening hungry cerise eyes. It was like an alien version of black lights, darkening Dib’s tawny Latin skin and lighting up Zim’s.

Zim didn’t give Dib much of a chance to admire the terrifying beauty of him, climbing back onto the bed with the ease of a seasoned hunter, not wasting any time in grasping Dib’s member in one hand gently, leaning down and dragging his tongue across the length, base to tip. Dib gasped, but was unable to tear his eyes away. His mouth was suddenly dry again, the hand covering his mouth making its way between his teeth to muffle his sounds and the other clenching the quilt beneath them as Zim began stroking, sliding his tongue along him before taking the entirety of him in his mouth— _how_ , Dib wasn’t sure, but he groaned into his hand, biting down hard into his own flesh to silence the groan.

Zim gagged slightly as he hit the back of his throat, one eye closing and antennae perking up high as he pulled back, dragging his tongue along the underside of him and licking away the dripping precum. Dib coughed slightly into his hand, eyes wide and face bright red.

“Mm. Zim perhaps should have thought his methods through,” the Irken shrugged as he gave Dib’s cock a final lick before slipping off the bed and standing, casting Dib an inquisitive smirk.

Dib watched Zim in a foggy, confused arousal as Zim made his way around the bed, opening the drawer of the nightstand and pulling out a long, silky black rope. Dib’s eyes widened in understanding as Zim held it above him. “Well, Dib-pet? _Want to play a game?_ ”

The human pulled his hand out of his mouth, licking chapped lips and simply nodding in response, knowing he would make a fool of himself and start rambling awkwardly should he try to speak.  Taking that as an acceptable answer, Zim unravelled the rope and snatched Dib’s wrist, tying it to the top right bedpost, making his way around to do the same with right ankle and foot of the bed, to left ankle, to left wrist.

“You _must_ tell Zim to stop if I am hurting you or making you uncomfortable in any way.” Dib nodded again. Zim gave him that instruction earlier. “Then we shall begin,” Zim cooed, continuing to stand, but reaching forward and dragging a claw down Dib’s throat, splitting the skin. Dib released a sharp gasp at the sting of pain and the warmth of blood bubbling up.

The fear only added to his arousal. He knew that Zim was smart enough not to hurt him _too badly_ , smart enough to avoid major arteries and veins. He knew Zim wanted to hurt him— _a little_ —but didn’t want to cause any real damage.

_How was it that Zim always knew what he wanted, before he knew, himself?_

Zim continued to claw his way down Dib’s body, adding to the scars that marred his flesh, before climbing back onto the bed with a haze in his eyes, backlit by the lights, casting all of him except teeth and eyes in silhouette. Dib’s breath caught in his throat as the Irken _grinned sadistically_. He leaned forward, grasping Dib’s jaw with two claws, careful not to puncture his skin. _“Are you ready, pet?”_ Zim asked, and Dib nodded again as Zim reached onto the ground, gingerly plucking up Dib’s t-shirt. He placed it on the empty part of the bed, ripping a long strip out of the front.

“Hey!” Dib jumped, trying to sit up but unable from his restraints. “I need that.”

Zim rolled his eyes, tossing the shredded shirt aside and bringing the strip of fabric to Dib’s face. “No, you do not,” was all he offered as he tied the strip around Dib’s head, blinding him.

“W-what are you doing?” Dib asked, his heart beat thudding quickly in his chest.

Zim was always soft-footed. He couldn’t hear _where_ Zim was at all, could only feel him move from his side.

“From now on, Dib-pet will _only_ speak when asked a direct question or if he needs Zim to stop. The Dib _will not move,_ either. How about…” Zim trailed off, and Dib could no longer feel his presence. “Dib-pet will say ‘Irk’ if he wishes for Zim to stop. Do you understand?”

Dib nodded in response.

“Say it.”

“ _Yes, Zim, I understand,_ ” Dib whined, struggling momentarily against his restraints again.

There was a sudden, sharp sting to Dib’s hip bone, and he yelped. _Holy fuck._

“Already breaking the rules, are we?” Dib only whined in response, taking a deep breath to steady his breathing and his racing heart. Unfortunately, Dib’s attempts to calm himself were in vain. Dib yanked harshly against his restraints when Zim’s mouth returned to his member. Dib wished he could _see_ , wished he could _move_ , but the restraints and the blindfold only helped to heighten his sense of touch. The adrenaline was a _very pleasant_ addition to already wonderful sensations. Dib’s thoughts grew foggy as he groaned loudly, head falling back into the mattress.

All Dib knew was that he was bound spread-eagle on the bed, available to Zim in whatever way the Irken chose. He didn’t expect their first time to be _this intense_ , but it was _exactly what he wanted_ , and he knew Zim wouldn’t waste all of his tricks on their first time, leaving Dib with no surprises down the road.

 _“Oh God,”_ Dib groaned when Zim took all of him again, clenching his hands into fists. Zim continued to pleasure him for a few long moments, the hands on his hips sliding down his thighs and scratching him roughly as a predatory growl released from Zim’s throat, vibrating into Dib’s flesh—a warning.

Dib bit his lip again, knowing he would be almost impossible to silence, but attempting it anyway—he was simply playing along to Zim’s game, sliding very easily into the role Zim gave to him—submissive to Zim’s prowess.

He’d always used to say to Zim, _“You get off by being in control, don’t you?”_ Zim would only cackle in response. If the Irken didn’t know what that meant _then_ , he sure as shit did _now_. Dib’s darkest fantasies had become a reality. It was the reason why he’d submitted so fully to the drugs and the alcohol. He needed to _lose control_ , and Zim was satisfying that for him _without_ the need for dangerous substances.

Zim pulled away again with another graceful lick, purring. “Are you ready, Dib-pet?” He asked, and Dib nodded. Another scratch to thigh.

“Y-yes, Zim. I’m ready.”

“Good,” he said as he positioned himself gracefully, eyes narrowing in pleasure, purring and chittering hotly as he began taking Dib.

Dib groaned as he pushed inside of Zim, tugging at his restraints. He wanted to break free of them, lay his hands _all over Zim_ , touch him _everywhere_ , grab and paw at him, to be as close as possible.

 _“Oh Dib,”_ Zim purred as if he could read his mind, still gripping Dib’s jaw once he had taken all of him, _“there will be time for that later.”_ Dib nodded weakly as Zim started to move.

Each movement was excruciatingly slow and purposeful. Zim was _teasing_ him. Torturing, more like, as Zim slipped his hand down and wrapped it around Dib’s throat. _“Look at me,”_ he ordered, and Dib’s eyes snapped open fully to follow the order, taking in a sharp breath before his air supply was cut off. Zim continued to move steadily, rocking his hips against him, keeping a careful and close eye on Dib’s expression, finally releasing his hand from Dib’s throat as his vision began to tunnel and his throat became sore, lungs burning as he gulped in air desperately. He’d have a bruise.

All of a sudden, Zim stopped his motions. Dib _whined_ , yanking at his restraints and wiggling his hips into the other, eliciting a moan from the Irken, followed by another growl. Suddenly, Zim’s mouth was at his throat and biting hard, and Dib _wailed_ , struggling harder—Zim bit harder—and he _moaned_ in a pleasure he couldn’t describe as Zim took him again.

When Zim released his mouth from Dib’s throat—he could tell he was bleeding there, too—the Irken tugged off the blindfold, also reaching up to tug loose the restraints.

While Dib’s glasses had been pushed crooked, he could tell Zim’s expression had shifted from dominating to something _far softer_ , something he _also_ couldn’t describe, and before he knew what he was doing, he knew the game was over. He sat up, wrapping his arms around Zim and kissing him passionately while they moved together, one hand sliding up Zim’s spine toward one of the velvety antenna, gripping it as gently as he could and stroking his fingers down the length of it.

The sounds Zim released were _incredible_. He chittered and mewled, digging his nails desperately into Dib’s shoulders. They were in sync, now, moving together as a single entity, both in ecstasy, and Dib wasn’t sure how much longer he could last. With his free hand, he dipped them both so that he could untie the rope around his ankles, flipping them over so he was on top of the Irken, facing the wrong way on the bed.

Dib pulled back just enough, resting on his forearms, to look down at Zim. “You’re— _fuck. You’re beautiful. Exquisite. **Perfect**_.”

Zim cooed back up at him, reaching a hand into Dib’s hair, grazing claws along his scalp and gripping the roots gently. “As are you.”

“Game over?” Dib asked with a chuckle, resuming the motions, now, controlling the speed himself. “Who won?”

“Zim _always_ wins, Dib-stink,” Zim chuckled as he yanked on the locks, making Dib gasp before laughing softly in response.

“Are you sure about that?” He asked, reaching his hand back up to caress the antenna—sending Zim immediately into a mewling mess. “Because I think I’ve discovered a _point of weakness_ ,” he muttered, voice hushing.

The courtship was like _nothing_ he could have expected. Zim felt _incredible_ around him. Dib moaned as Zim mewled. From leopard to kitten. He smirked, kissing Zim’s neck as he steadied his rhythm, touching as much of the Irken as he could reach, Zim following suit.

Dib could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he buried his face in Zim’s throat. Zim gripped his shoulder knowingly.

 _“I love you,”_ Dib murmured.

“And I you, Dib,” Zim panted beneath him, his hold on shoulder and hair tightening. _“Dib—”_ he gasped suddenly, clenching onto the human tightly.

 _“I know—”_ he responded in kind, his eyes squeezing shut. _“F-fuck—”_

 _“ **Dib.**_ ” Zim growled, arching his back beneath him.

They came together—Zim with a sharp gasp and Dib with a low groan. Unable to hold himself up, but not wanting to crush Zim beneath him, Dib rolled aside, one arm draped loosely around the Irken’s chest as he panted for breath.

 _“Oh, Irk~”_ Zim purred, letting his head drop half-way off the bottom of the bed, eyes half-lidded, resting his hand on Dib’s forearm. “Did—did Zim ever say how much he likes Dib’s inkings?”

Dib laughed tiredly, shaking his head. “No. I don’t believe you have. But thank you.” Zim rolled over slowly, looking up into Dib’s eyes and readjusting his glasses for him. He didn’t say anything else—he didn’t have to. Dib didn’t want him to. He just wanted to lay there, and hold him, and remember that he was _here,_ and although they were leaving Earth, they were leaving _together_ , too.


	18. Lazy Mornings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short snippet. Sorry for the wait y'all. Enjoy!

Zim awoke with a start. It was not often he slept, but last night’s _events_ had tired him out _considerably_. They had somehow managed to right themselves on the bed—or perhaps Dib did that. He purred, snuggling into the human’s warmth in the crook of his arm, dragging his nails lazily across Dib’s chest.

His human _sure did_ liked to be marked, and he was _completely unsurprised_ by Dib’s desire for pain during their mating. When their fights got _brutal_ and _vicious_ , he could smell the hot shift in the human’s scent as adrenaline and testosterone flooded his bloodstream, the way Dib’s natural musk adjusted for the rush of desire.

It was nothing for Zim to comply. On Irk, while mating was _looked down upon_ , for there was no biological need for it—and physical contact itself was often despised by Irkens—it was not unusual for fucking and fighting to be _one and the same_. Zim himself had never dabbled, nor did many Irkens in general. He simply had _no desire for it_ —until he and Dib started ‘dating’ back in high skool.

Dib released a loud snore, tightening his grip around Zim as he adjusted. Zim rolled his eyes in response, antennae smoothing back against his head with a small chuckle. It was quite early in the morning, his internal clock was telling him, but they had fallen asleep rather quickly after a round at one another.

Hm. Dib-stink _must_ have moved them—his glasses were missing from his face, settled onto the nightstand on the boy’s side, folded neatly and within reach. He _hated_ those blasted things. Zim missed the circular frames that so suited Dib’s now-squared jaw and large cranium.

Hesitantly, while the boy continued to snore softly, Zim reached a hand up and grazed his fingers along the stubble. He really was a _man_ now, wasn’t he? Incredible what five years could do on this planet. Dib had always been in shape; they were quite active while chasing one another down, and while Dib hunted for the paranormal in any and all terrain. He had to hand it to Dib, the boy, while a clumsy oaf, was _quick_ on his feet and _shockingly_ strong. Zim had found himself pinned more times than he could count, and if it weren’t for his PAK legs, he would have been unable to pry himself free. _Half of that_ , however, he blamed on their difference in size.

The human had grown almost exponentially before high skool, skyrocketing the boy _far too tall_ for his _own damn good_ , leaving him lanky and awkward for a few short months before he accustomed to his growth spurt. Zim grew, too, but far more slowly and steadily. He blamed it on the strange gravity here, but it was an embarrassing point of contention that he could not say _for sure_ what caused his increase in height. He was still more than _a full Dib-sized head_ shorter than the other.

Zim continued to trace the outline of Dib’s jaw, to his muscles under each tattoo. He had thinned out considerably. His delectable, pink-undertoned Latin skin had lightened and the drugs and alcohol had left him a _ghostly jaundiced_. Zim stuck his tongue out sourly. They’d have to fix that, especially now that Dib _had_ become a man, in every sense of the word.

Tall, firm, brilliant, and _very well equipped._

Zim purred when he felt Dib’s hands on him, mewled when Dib pulled him into his lap, so Zim could lie along Dib’s chest with his knees on either side of the human’s hips. They were still undressed, and he could feel the _firmness_ of Dib’s manhood beneath him. He grinned down into the human’s bleary, sleep-fogged eyes. The human smiled softly back up at him.

“Good morning, Diblet. Did you sleep well?”

“Mmh,” Dib murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to Zim’s forehead. The Irken had grown accustomed to the soft sting. “Once I fell asleep yeah, was out like a light. You were _out_.” Dib slid his hands into the small of Zim’s back, below the PAK.

Zim crooned, placing a gentle kiss to the centre of Dib’s chest between his hands. He wasn’t sure if Dib _realized_ what his current state was, what with still being half asleep, the grogginess dripping between his teeth as he spoke. To _test_ this theory, Zim gave a little wiggle of his hips.

“Oh!” Dib gasped, eyes snapping open fully, but tiredly, to stare up at Zim. _Oh, he looked **so** delectable._ “Z-Zim, what are you—”

Zim gave the human no chance to continue speaking, rubbing himself along Dib’s member and cooing into soft kisses to his chest. Zim felt Dib’s hands trail gently up his thighs, resting on his hips. His hands had become rough with age, and the slight scratch felt _very lovely_ against Zim’s skin.

Dib was almost soundless beneath him, the only noise filling the room was his heavy, tired breathing, warming the air around them. Soon they would have to prepare for their trip to the Massive. For now, however, Zim had _very different plans_.

He felt Dib’s gasp from deep in his chest, the chamber rising beneath Zim’s mouth, as Zim adjusted himself to begin taking his lover in. Dib’s fingers dug into his hips, the jagged nails nipping at his skin, and Zim purred, sitting up just slightly to angle himself more efficiently.

 _“Christ, Zim—”_ Dib moaned breathlessly beneath him. One of Dib’s hands released a hip, the left one, with the bones tattooed along his arm. His hand slipped along Zim’s front, resting on his chest. Zim inhaled deeply as he began to move, eyes falling half-closed, grasping Dib’s fingers with his own.

This was a closeness he _never_ expected between the two of them. The sexual tension was high since he’d returned to Earth—hell, it was high before he left, but they never came close. Zim _knew_ what to do, and what was expected. He wasn’t sure if he really _wanted it_.

He wasn’t sure if _Dib_ wanted it. Irken mating—wasn’t like this.

Dib’s hips adjusted, pushing himself deeper inside, and Zim’s eyes snapped oppen and he released a half-gasp, half-chitter as an explosion of pleasure burst through him. He definitely _did not_ expect that. He opened one eye hesitantly to look down at Dib, who was smirking lazily and continuing his solid and measured thrusts.

 _“I like it when you purr,_ ” he murmured, pushing his fingers into Zim’s chest and hip just a little harder, rocking into him. Zim’s head fell back with another chittering moan.

What he’d intended was to rile Dib up while still half asleep, leave him frustrated until before their trip, _make sure_ the human was thinking of him while he prepared. Instead, he was receiving a _thorough fucking_ from his sleepish lover, and his body simply responded in kind to the pleasurable torment of it.

Zim rode Dib to completion—it didn’t take long with that _lovely_ angle Dib had found, and that perfect, methodical rhythm. Zim couldn’t help but purr through the whole thing, his chest rumbling and vibrating, Dib feeling the vibrations through his palm and the pads of his fingers, moaning in response. He could feel his antennae stretch and twitch with the rise of his orgasm, and the tension building deep in his belly.

He could smell the shift in Dib’s natural perfumes, too. Still addled with remnants of nicotine, alcohol, and those _stupid drugs_ , the heat was palpable and delectable on Zim’s tongue, a _very specific_ tang that settled sweetly in the back of his throat as Dib came just after him with a deep, throaty growl.

A very animalistic sound that sent Zim digging his claws into Dib’s chest, grabbing onto him as tightly as he could, needing to _feel_ the sound before he slipped off his mate to lay next to him, panting softly.

Dib, shockingly, recovered far more quickly. He seemed undeterred by the sweet, translucent pink mess on his abdomen as he rolled over, tucking one arm under Zim’s head and wrapping the other around his waist, smirking softly and placing gentle kisses all over his neck and collar, humming in satisfaction.

Zim growled lightly, but he wasn’t _actually_ defensive—his antennae rested loosely above his head, twitching just slightly in the aftershocks. _He didn’t expect himself to be this sensitive post-coitus._ “Are humans not meant to be _tired_ after mating? Zim assumed that was _common_ in human males.”

Dib chuckled against his skin. “Mm. I suppose. I sure did last night. But that. **_That_** definitely woke me up.”

Zim rolled his eyes. “Well. You are _filthy_ , Dib-stink. Get off Zim and go get—clean. In your acid water.” He pointed a sharp claw to the bathroom door, barely visible in the wall, giving Dib a good shove before standing and stretching.

“Hey!” Dib sat up, and when Zim glanced over his shoulder, he was satisfied to see the dejected, but still smiling, expression on his face.

“Go. Get clean. Zim will do the same, _far away_ from your evil water,” Zim waved his hand in the air absently, glancing down at himself. Eugh. He was a little worse for wear himself. The _afterwards_ was _not nearly_ as enjoyable.

He listened as Dib stood with a soft chuckle, and allowed himself to lean into the soft kiss to his right shoulderblade, along a particularly _nasty_ scar from his _once upon a time Tallests_.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going,” he said, squeezing Zim’s hand on his way around the bed and toward the door. “Hey—I don’t have a change of clothes here yet.”

Zim rolled his scarlet eyes. “Dib-stink, you have left clothing at my base for _years_ in high skool. There is a change of clothes in the bathroom already for you. Zim is not an _idiot_. Now quit being naked in front of Zim and be clean.”

He heard the laughter as he exited the room swiftly, the door slamming shut behind him. Ne was flushed, slightly, and although he would not admit it to the human, Dib’s unclothed form was _impressive_ to say the least, albeit jaundiced and thinner than he should be.

Zim had very little self-consciousness regarding his own form. Usually. Ninety-nine percent of the time. However, around Dib, bare skinned, he felt—slightly less remarkable. He heaved a sigh, listening for the sound of the shower, before he walked away toward the elevator to clean himself and change.

They had very much to do.


End file.
